Gale and the Dragon
by Sauron Gorthaur
Summary: Before the last battle for Narnia, Jewel tells Jill and Eustace the adventure of how Gale slew the dragon of the Lone Islands. Complete.
1. Prologue

**Gale and the Dragon**

**by Sauron Gorthaur**

* * *

_[Jewel] told how King Gale, who was ninth in descent from Frank the first of all Kings, had sailed far away into the Eastern seas and delivered the Lone Islanders from a dragon and how, in return, they had given him the Lone Islands to be part of the royal lands of Narnia for ever._

_from The Last Battle_

* * *

Prologue

"Oh, what a delightful story!" Jill exclaimed as Jewel finished another one of his stories. "Moonwood the Hare! Imagine being able to hear like that. It would be simply thrilling!"

"I think it would be ghastly," Eustace commented from where he was walking on the other side of the Unicorn. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at all, ever, not if I could hear every ant crawling across the floor. I'll keep the hearing I've got, thanks."

Jill made a face at him. "Why do you always have to see things like that? It was a lovely story, Jewel dear," she said, stroking the silky whiteness of the Unicorn's mane.

"I didn't say it wasn't a good story," said Eustace. "I just said I shouldn't like to hear what everyone was saying from here to Cair Paravel. It was a ripping story."

"Oh, tell another one, do," Jill said enthusiastically. "It'll be simply ages before we get to the Stable, won't it, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, it is still a fair way," Tirian answered from a few paces ahead of them. "Tell stories and be merry whilst you can if Jewel is obliged to do so."

"Then will you?" Jill asked. "Another beautiful story about long ago?"

For a few seconds, the only sound was the soft steps of human feet and Unicorn hooves, then Jewel spoke in his grave, soft voice. "Yes, Daughter of Eve, another story comes to my mind that perhaps you will take pleasure in. I will tell you the story of King Gale and the dragon, if you desire."

Eustace shook his head. "Dragons? Does it have to be about dragons? I don't care for them very much."

"You don't have to listen," Jill retorted. "And I like dragons well enough."

"You wouldn't if you'd been one," Eustace said, "but, come on, Pole, let's not quarrel, not tonight anyway. Dragons it is, I suppose. Go ahead, Jewel."

With the children walking on either side, the noble Unicorn began to talk, unfolding for them the tale of the Narnian king and the great dragon of the Lone Islands.


	2. Friendship

Chapter 1: Friendship

No one would have thought the young man with wind-tousled hair lying on his back in the grass was the king of Narnia. He did not look his twenty-seven years of age with a fresh, youthful face, fair hair and beard, and blue eyes that were fixed on an open book which he rested upon his breast. He had a scar on his left cheek, the remnant, it was said, of a fight with a wyvern, but no one knew for sure. His attire would have befitted one of the lesser nobles and his head was bare. It was a well-known fact among his nobles that Gale hated his crown. A sheathed sword, which its owner knew how to wield skillfully, was laid against a nearby tree, but at present it was being ignored.

Gale shut his eyes and laid the book down, still open, upon his chest. Sighing, he took in the smell of a hot summer day laced with the scent of sea spray from the nearby coast. It was such a day as this when Gale most reveled in being alive and in being king of a land at peace. No rumor of war, even from Calormen, had been heard of for years, for everyone knew of his reputation as a man skilled with a sword and with organizing an army.

A slight rustle from the tree caught Gale's attention, but he did not allow any change to come over his body. Eyes still closed, he let his muscles relax while his ears strained to pick up any further noises.

Without warning, a lithe shape hurled itself from the tree, snarling as it landed on top of Gale. The king's strong arms wrapped around the yellow body, and they rolled over and over in their fierce tussle, leaving flattened grass in their wake. Finally, Gale pinned his opponent to the ground, and, breathing heavily, stared into the dark eyes of a young Leopard.

"Too careless, once again, Darkspot," Gale chided. "If you are ever to catch me off guard, then you must learn to keep your tail still before you pounce so that it does not stir the leaves."

Darkspot bared her fangs in a cat's laugh. "And if Your Majesty had been a fraction of a second slower, it would have been you pinned to the grass."

"Often in battle a fraction of a second is all you have and you must always be ready to use it," Gale answered, rolling to the side to release his friend of many years. She sat on her haunches, seeming to ignore him as she drew a large, velveted paw across her ears, knocking the grass from her fur. When she decided her dignity had been regained, she turned her fierce gaze back to Gale.

"I was sent to seek you, Your Majesty, in case you had forgotten what day it is and that evening is approaching fast."

Gale rubbed a hand across his brow, pushing yellow strands out of his eyes. "Darkspot, it is only upon days like my fifteenth anniversary that you call me 'Your Majesty.' And I can see perfectly well that the sun has another hour before it sinks. Was it Starhorn that sent you?"

A purring chuckle rumbled up from Darkspot's throat. "Of course, but you may remember that his fears have not always been in vain. A centaur who studies the stars may be able to tell more of the future than you think. I am sure he would be willing to remind you of how you missed your own third anniversary feast."

Gale groaned at the memory. "Oh please don't bring that up. It wasn't my fault that my horse threw me and left me in the middle of the woods a mere hour before my feast started."

"Had you been at Cair Paravel getting ready instead of gallivanting through the woods on a hunt, it would not have happened," Darkspot countered.

Gale buckled his sword back onto his belt. "If it stays your fears and the worries of Starhorn, then I'll return right away, although I would much rather go hunting or remain here with my book than go to some ceremony."

Darkspot loped alongside him easily as he started back towards Cair Paravel which could be seen in the distance. "It is the duty of a king to look like a king every once in a while, even if there is little need for it. You will wear your crown, won't you?"

"Yes, I'll wear my crown, Darkspot," Gale sighed. "I'm glad there is peace in Narnia, but I wouldn't mind a bit of adventure every once in a while. No one ever bothers a king about his crown when he is fighting giants or battling minotaurs."

"Do not wish too hastily, Your Majesty, or the Great Lion may send you what you ask."

"If I did not desire it, I would not ask for it."

"Perhaps."

Gale glanced down at the graceful figure walking beside him and shook his head. "What would you ask for, were you given the chance?"

Darkspot's large eyes blinked slowly. "I would wish that a friend of mine does not get himself into serious trouble one day because he seeks too much adventure."

Gale halted indignantly. "Too much adventure? And who was it leaping on me from the top of a tree? _I_ was resting peacefully in the grass."

Tail twitching, Darkspot uttered another throaty purr of a laugh. "I am still young, a mere kitten in Starhorn's words. And I am not the king of Narnia, so I can be excused the playful behavior of my kind. You should be settling down to your duty and finding a female companion who is not a cat."

"And you are the one who will play match-maker for me?" Gale snorted. "No, I think you are too young to be a king's counselor, little kitten."

Back and forth, the two friends teased each other as they meandered towards Cair Paravel. The sound of pounding waves on the strand was mingled with the singing of merpeople, as a Man and a Leopard strolled down the shore towards the castle, enjoying their youth and the pleasure of friendship.


	3. Ill News from the Islands

Chapter 2: Ill News from the Islands

The fifteenth anniversary feast was naturally a roaring success (literally roaring in the case of several bears and a lion who were thoroughly enjoying the hearty fare), for Narnians need little excuse for a celebration and a good time. And the fifteenth anniversary of their strong, young king who had maintained peace in their land seemed a fine excuse for eating, dancing, and general merry-making all around.

Gale had indeed made it back to Cair Paravel in plenty of time, enough time to avoid any scolding from the centaur, Starhorn, who had looked after him since he was a child. He had discarded the comfortable and informal clothes he had been wearing that afternoon in favor of his regal tunic and red tabard with the golden Lion stitched on the front. He was even wearing his crown. Darkspot sat on her haunches beside him, dark eyes flickering over the scene before her in the feast hall.

It seemed everyone had come, even more than they had been expecting, but there was no lack of good food for all. The Squirrels were amusing everyone with their antics, swinging through the rafters and stopping their chatter only to stuff nuts into their small, pouched faces. One particularly hyper Squirrel named Beechtail even got a smile from the usually somber Starhorn when he missed his footing on a rafter and tumbled into a large pie. The Dwarves chatted with the Moles about the well they were digging in the courtyard, and the Talking Birds sang happily from their perches to the music of Faun pipes as Dryads danced in a ring. Leaning back in his chair with a full stomach, Gale smiled at the happiness that reigned all around him.

"Still wish for an adventure, Your Majesty?"

Gale glanced sideways at the Leopard. "Why shouldn't I?"

Darkspot's tail twitched ever so slightly. "You seem as happy here tonight as anyone else. If you are happy with this peace, why would you want something else?"

"Sometimes I think you're too shrewd for your age," Gale answered. "Yes, I enjoy seeing my subjects content and happy, but it has been far too long since I went on some heroic quest and did courageous deeds. My crown is starting to feel more natural than my sword and I don't know if I like that."

"It was a heroic quest and courageous deeds that made you king when you were only twelve," Darkspot reminded him.

Gale was silent for a moment. "That was not the same. There was war with Calormen in those days, and it is a king's duty to protect his people, even at the cost of his life. Do not mistake me, Darkspot, I do not miss the days of war. There is no adventure in slaughtering other men and watching your own friends fall around you. Those are not the deeds I long for."

"Then what is it that you want, Your Majesty?" Darkspot persisted.

Gale looked at his friend for a long time before replying. "Perhaps I will not know until the opportunity presents itself. For now, I will do my best to enjoy the times the Great Lion has given me."

Darkspot closed her eyes and purred softly. "A wise decision, Gale, my friend."

Gale grinned. "Now that's better. If you had called me 'Your Majesty' one more time, I would have had to pull your tail, and I know how much you dislike that."

Darkspot uttered a soft growl. "And then I would have had to tell Starhorn that the King of Narnia was acting like a month-old kitten, and I know how much _you_ dislike that."

Gale gave the solemn centaur a glance. "No need for that. Everything will be fine as long as you forget that 'Your Majesty' nonsense."

"Oh," Darkspot said with feign innocence, "but this is your fifteenth anniversary and it would not do for a lowly Talking Beast to call you 'Gale', now would it, Your Majesty?"

Gale glared at her. "Fifteenth anniversary or not, there's only so much cheek I can take from lowly Talking Beasts." Without warning, he leaned quickly to the side and caught hold of the long, yellow tail and gave it a hard pull, which brought a yelp of surprise and indignation from the Leopard it was attached to.

Darkspot was about to retaliate by making good her threat, but she had moved only a few paces towards Starhorn when a commotion at the other end of the hall caught everyone's attention. There was the sound of excited clamor, and many of the guests rose from their seats to see the double doors swing, opened by many eager paws and hands, but Gale could neither see nor hear what was happening. He rose from his seat and let his strong voice reverberate through the hall.

"Quiet! Back to your seats, all of you!"

Immediately, silence descended over the hall as the hushed Narnians sat down again. Gale could now see who his visitor was: one of the great Talking Horses, a chestnut stallion with a white blaze on his nose. He had obviously exerted himself to get to Cair Paravel, for sweat stood out on his short brown fur. He shook his mane politely and dipped his head to Gale before speaking. "Your Majesty, I have come from the southern coast as swiftly as I could with strange, but ill news, I fear."

Gale held up his hand. "And that news can wait until after you have eaten and drunk, good Horse. As you can see, there is plenty for one who has traveled as far and fast as you."

The Horse shook his mane once again in gratitude and drank deeply from a water cask that was brought him. Gale waited as the noble creature munched hungrily on grain and the best Cair Paravel hay, but the others in the hall were not so patient. Murmurs drifted through the hall and everyone shifted in his or her seat, eager to hear what news the Horse had brought.

At last, the Horse was done, and he raised his head to look at the king. "Oh, that was very fine, Your Majesty. Thank you for your hospitality."

Gale nodded graciously. "It was the least I could do. Now, perhaps you could tell us your name and your news, good Horse of Narnia."

The Horse looked around, suddenly aware that hundreds of eyes were fixed intently on him. He snorted and pawed the ground with one hoof, slightly embarrassed by all the attention, but he quickly plucked up his courage enough to answer Gale.

"My name is Reyin, and I live in the southern marches of Narnia, near to Archenland. It was only two days ago that, while walking by the seashore, I saw something white huddled close by the shoreline. Of course, I went closer to inspect this curiosity and found that it was a Sea Gull, bedraggled, weary, and with an injured wing. I saw that he was missing one foot, an old wound, and knew it to be Farcry, who often visits that stretch of shore and who brings us news from the Seven Isles and sometimes from beyond."

"I bore him back to the home of some Badgers I know, and they went about fixing his wing. Farcry was exhausted from his ordeal and could not speak until he had rested and eaten. But he was always a hardy bird and soon delivered us his message. Since he was too weary to fly on, I volunteered to bring his news to Your Majesty."

"He had flown on past the Seven Isles to a place he named the Lone Islands. They are three islands, Your Majesty, Felimath, Doorn, and Avra, of which the latter two are inhabited. Farcry had visited them before and had told them of Narnia and of Your Majesty, and he was always well received by their governor. But this time when he came, he found the people huddled in fear in their houses and the governor completely distraught.

"The governor told Farcry that a few weeks prior to his coming, a dragon had landed on Felimath, where the Lone Islanders kept their sheep. Needless to say, the dragon made short work of the sheep and then began to terrorize the other islands, carrying back to Felimath any animal it could find and the occasional Human who was not careful enough."

~o~o~

"Oh, how ghastly," Jill exclaimed wide-eyed. "I don't know if I like this story very much. Carried away and eaten by a dragon, ugh." She closed her eyes and shuddered.

Eustace had been trying to put on a bold face, but he grimaced slightly at that. "Yes, I'm afraid they do that. I remember the whole crew of the _Dawn Treader_ turned out, fully armed, when I showed up on the beach. Not that I would have carried anyone away," he added hurriedly.

"Of course not," Jill said, still looking a little discolored at the thought of the Lone Islanders' fate.

The two children suddenly realized Jewel was watching them silently with his dark, solemn eyes. Eustace nudged Jill. "Well, are you done interrupting and can Jewel get on with the story?"

Jill frowned. "Interrupting? All I did was make a comment. Oh, sorry, Jewel dear. Yes, please do go on with the story. It's awfully exciting."

Something that might have been a smile touched the Unicorn's face. "Very well, Daughter of Eve." He paused, remembering his place in the story, before continuing.

~o~o~

"Needless to say," Reyin said, "Farcry reported that the Lone Islanders were desperate. It is only a matter of time before the dragon finishes with the livestock and begins to burn down the houses to get at the people. Farcry did not see the dragon, but the Islanders say it is a large and fierce brute that strikes like lightening. Already it has destroyed much of Narrowhaven, their largest town, and most of the population there has retreated into the governor's castle, but they do not know how long they can remain safe even there.

"The governor has heard of Your Majesty's skill in combat and the rumor that you yourself once killed a wyvern. He begs Your Majesty to come to the Lone Islands as swiftly as you may to rid them of the dragon, and in return, he offers you the Lone Islands, that they will be tributary to the Crown of Narnia henceforth."

Gale stroked the pale scar on his cheek thoughtfully as Reyin ended his tale and stood, tail swishing nervously. The king glanced up at the waiting Horse and gave him a satisfied nod. "Well done, Reyin. Please, enjoy the hospitality of Cair Paravel as long as you desire and let me or my servants know if anything is lacking in your stay. I will prepare to leave at once for the Lone Islands, and Windsea the Sea Eagle will take the news to them."

This announcement caused a great deal of excitement. Instant chatter broke out and everyone began to offer what help they could for the journey, quite overwhelming Gale for a moment. But the young king quickly recovered and called out over the hubbub. "I thank you, my friends, for your concern, but I must be given some time alone to make plans. If I need your help, I shall ask for it, but for the time being, I will retire. Continue the celebration, please, and see that our guest, Reyin, is given proper care. I take my leave."

He rose abruptly and strode from the hall, his heart suddenly pounding and his blood coursing madly through his veins. An adventure he had asked for and here was an adventure indeed!


	4. The King's Decision

Chapter 3: The King's Decision

"Botheration! Where are those maps?"

Gale rifled through another stack of papers that he had dug out of the large chest in the corner of his study. He sneezed as dust swirled through the air from all the books, documents, and random odds and ins that clearly had not been disturbed in years.

"You do know where all those things go back, don't you, Your Majesty?"

Gale brushed a hand in the air before his eyes to clear the dust as a deep voice rumbled from the doorway. He sneezed again before answering. "Of course."

Starhorn's hooves clopped softly on the stone floor as he came in. Carefully, the centaur picked up a large, worn volume that bore the legend "The Records of Tarin the Mariner" in gold letters. "You are planning to go on this journey, then?"

"Who's idea was it to make this the study?" Gale coughed. "Not a single window to let all this confounded dust out."

Starhorn frowned. "Gale, son of Gareth, Tenth King of Narnia, I asked you a question."

Gale knew that voice. He turned slowly to face his mentor, arching an eyebrow. "Yes, I was planning on going, but as far as I'm aware, the King of Narnia is allowed to do that."

Starhorn sighed deeply and ran his hand over the faded book cover. "No, there is no law against your going, just good sense, which I fear you have a dreadful lack of sometimes."

Gale spread his arms wide. "What am I suppose to do, Starhorn? Let those poor people be eaten alive by a dragon? You wouldn't stop me if it were Narnians in danger."

"I am suggesting nothing of the sort," Starhorn said severely. "And yes, I would stop you, even if it were your own people. This is not the king's job. It is the job of a great warrior, a dragon-slayer –"

" – which you're suggesting I'm not," Gale interrupted hotly.

The centaur held up a hand and finished his sentence. "Someone who does not have a kingdom to rule, people to govern, and no heir to replace him should he fall."

Gale sank down moodily into a chair and folded his arms, staring at a tapestry embroidered with the Lion in gold threads. "My father would have gone."

Starhorn sighed again, set the book down, and looked down into the face of the impetuous young king. "No, he wouldn't, because he knew his duty. There is a time and place for a king to put himself in danger. Your father died in battle, leading his army against the Calormenes so that Narnia could dwell in peace, the peace you have inherited. That was a time when it was his duty to put himself in harm's way, but this is not the same. It is one dragon in a distant land, and Your Majesty is not the only one who can slay such a beast. Since they have called for our aid, I do not council you to ignore them, but to send one whose loss would not be detrimental to all Narnia. We cannot lose you, Your Majesty, especially when you have none to follow you."

"You seem to be putting aside all assumptions that I might win," Gale snorted.

"A fully grown ravenous dragon is not something to be taken lightly," Starhorn shot back. "If you go to battle this dragon, Your Majesty's chances of survival are slim."

Gale slumped further in his chair. "Have you ever considered becoming a Marshwiggle?"

Starhorn's brows knit together angrily. "I have gazed at the stars and they foretell a great doom in your path should you go."

Gale leapt to his feet suddenly, his fierce temper aroused. "And what do the stars know? They sit in the heavens to gaze down on the world, but they do not determine its fate. Perhaps it was not coincidence that I asked for an adventure and hours later news comes to me of an adventure greater than I could have dreamed of. Perhaps this is Aslan's doing."

Starhorn glared back. "All things are in the Lion's paws. But that does not give you leave to rush heedlessly into danger."

Turning his back on Starhorn, Gale began going through another pile of aged papers in the flickering light of a lantern. "I'm not going heedlessly. Maybe your stars tell you this will be my doom, but I feel that this is a great opportunity to show both my people and other nations that I am a king who does not quail at danger or leave innocent people to die."

"If this is a matter of your reputation, then I more strongly suggest your staying. You do not need any more valiant deeds on your mind to swell your already swollen pride."

"Nor do I need or want the advice of stubborn, cynical centaurs," Gale shouted. "I'm done discussing this!" Ignoring Starhorn, he stormed out of the study and down the hall towards his room.

Flopping down on his bed, he rubbed a hand across his eyes, suddenly aware of how weary he was. His window was unlatched and a cool breeze that smelled of the sea wafted through his room. There was no moon and all he could see through the window was black night. He sighed deeply and looked around at the familiar furnishings of his room, the bright tapestries and rugs, his comfortable chair by the window where he liked to read during winter days, and his closet where he kept his armor and weapons. Slowly, he stood and made his way over to the closet, opening it to reveal his silver shield with the Lion's face on it, his body armor, his bow and quiver full of red-shafted arrows, his hunting spear, and his sword. He half drew the sword from its black sheath, but then with a sigh, let it slip back in.

"Gale?"

Gale shut the closet door and leaned on it, his forehead pressing against the smooth wood. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Darkspot."

The Leopard pounced onto the bed, then turned several times before settling down on the thick blankets. She rested her chin on her tail and stared at him, until he turned around. He stumbled back over to the bed and collapsed next to her, propped up by his pillows. "I've been arguing with Starhorn," he muttered.

"I know," Darkspot said. "I knew he wouldn't want you to go, and I knew you wouldn't like his advice. It is good advice all the same."

Gale gave her a half-hearted glare. "You heard us?"

The tip of Darkspot's tail twitched like a creature with its own life. "No, but I can guess most of what he said. Too dangerous. Not your job. Rashness. No heir."

Gale leaned his head back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling. "So you've been thinking the same things?"

"Yes."

Gale fidgeted with the hem of his tunic. "Of course, you have, because you're both right, you and Starhorn." He rolled over on his side to face Darkspot. "I shouldn't have lost my temper with him, but he has no idea how much this would mean to me."

Darkspot blinked slowly. "How much does it mean to you?"

Gale reached out and gently ran his fingers through the Leopard's soft fur. "It gets so tiresome sitting here waiting for someone to come with a complaint for me to settle or a request for me to see about. Nowadays, it seems like I hardly ever go hunting, let alone anything more. And it rankles me, Darkspot, to have so much energy and yearning and nothing to do with it. Can this truly be a coincidence? I asked for an adventure and one has come to me. If this is a chance Aslan is granting me, I don't want to waste it, but I don't want to be foolish and rash either. And I was unfair to Starhorn. He's right; it would be wrong of me to put myself in danger when I have no one to name king after me. But it would refresh my spirit greatly to go."

Darkspot laughed deep in her throat. "An odd holiday, Gale, one that few would find relief in, I think."

Gale smiled and scratched between her ears, causing her to close her eyes and purr. "What? Dragon-slaying doesn't sound like good fun to you? Well, I'm sure it would sound less appealing even to me when it got down to it, but a nice sail and a month or two away from the court would be pleasant." He stopped scratching and stared out the window at the night sky beyond, his face growing grim again. "Do you believe what the stars say, Darkspot? Starhorn said that if I go, a doom awaits me."

Darkspot stretched her front feet out in front of her, showing her teeth and red tongue in a yawn. "I do not pretend to know the minds of stars or centaurs, but both have been right before now. This is your decision to make, not mine. I would council you the same as Starhorn, to stay here in peace, but I know how fiery a young heart can be. I agree that this news seems an odd coincidence. But what I do know is this: Aslan's will is at work and our actions cannot disturb his Great Plan. What he desires will come about. And not all dooms are bad. Perhaps destiny is a better word, and who other than the Lion can say what destiny awaits us on any path we take?"

Gale stared with admiration at his feline friend. "You are too wise for your age. You're right, of course, though it doesn't make my decision any easier. But first, I should find Starhorn and apologize."

Darkspot rolled on her back and looked at him sideways, tail swishing. "A good idea, Gale, my friend."

Starhorn was still in the study, carefully putting back the books and papers that Gale had left scattered over the tables in his anger. The young king stood in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he watched the centaur stoop to pick up a book that had fallen upside down and open on the floor. As Starhorn placed the volume on its shelf, he spoke in his slow, grave way. "Forgotten something, Your Majesty?"

Gale had not realized that Starhorn knew he was standing there. He shifted, hesitating, before answering. "No, but I have been unkind and scorned good advice. I am sorry for my behavior, Starhorn. It did not befit a king."

"That it did not." Starhorn turned, his dark, almost black horse body gleaming in the lantern light. His face was sober as always, but his eyes showed no anger, only a calm acknowledgment. "Your apology is accepted."

He frowned slightly, then picked up several parchments that he had separated out from the rest. "I believe you were looking for these."

Gale stepped forward and took them. They were the maps of the Eastern Seas, as far as any Narnian had traveled, which unfortunately was not very far. The Seven Isles were marked on them and beyond them, three indefinite shapes were drawn with scribbled words next to them. _The Isles of Felimath, Doorn, and Avra, called the Lone Islands by the inhabitants. News was brought to Tarin, Fourth King of Narnia, of the Isles by Waverush the Albatross but he never charted the Isles for himself._

Gale folded up the maps and gave Starhorn a weak smile. "Yes, that's what I wanted. Does this mean you've changed your mind?"

Starhorn gazed long at him. "No, but it is Your Majesty's decision. I have given my advice, but I cannot know the Great Lion's will for you. Do as you feel led."

Gale looked past Starhorn to a tapestry of the Lion. "Then I think it is my duty to go. But I will not be going alone, and if it must be, I will not go into battle against the dragon. But the king should be there to direct all this, and to greet the governor of the Islands and, if the dragon is slain, to do the necessary business of adding the Islands to Narnia. I will leave you as my Regent while I am gone, Starhorn."

The centaur bowed his head. "I submit to Your Majesty's will." He looked up again and stomped a front hoof lightly on the stone floor, gazing at Gale with his stern eyes. "But be careful, and do not come to the same fate as your father. Your people deserve peace, and if you were to die now, there would be much trouble for Narnia with no king to rule. And remember the stars, Your Majesty, for they see far."

Gale returned the formal bow. "I will remember, and I will take the greatest care with my life. And perhaps the destiny foreseen for me will not be evil."

"I ask the Lion that it may be so," Starhorn answered, and with a final nod, he left the study. Gale heard him clip-clopping down the hall. The king tucked the maps into his tunic and glanced up once more at the tapestry. "Aslan, protect me," he whispered. "May my decision prove to be the right one."


	5. The Dangers of Water and Wild Animals

**A/N: I would like to thank my anonymous reviewer: JilltheKingess. I'm glad the story interests you. Sorry about the delay in updating. – Sauron Gorthaur**

* * *

Chapter 4: The Dangers of Water and Wild Animals

Clash!

"Excellent, Marris. Give me a higher slash."

Cling!

"Come on now, you can move faster than that. And, Stonebluff, take a good swing at me – you're not even trying right now."

The giant rested the log he had been using as a club against his shoulder and scratched his mossy-haired head, frowning at Gale. "Of course I'm not, Your Majesty. I might smash you."

Gale waved a hand in frustration at the giant, who, though on the small side, was still a good twenty feet high. "That's the point. Do you think the dragon is going to be worried about smashing me? Those brutes use their tails for crushing, and I need to be used to getting out of the way while warding off the claws and teeth. Come on, give me a solid blow."

Stonebluff still didn't look convinced. "Well, if Your Majesty says so, but I don't see how you're suppose to fight any dragons if I've already smashed you for them."

Gale momentarily closed his eyes. "Just give me your best swing, Stonebluff."

Still grumbling something that was too high over Gale's head for him to hear, the giant lifted the log with ease and swung it at the king with surprising speed. Gale dodged aside as it smashed into the ground, but the dirt dislodged by the mighty blow flew up into his face, temporarily blinding him. He staggered back, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand.

"Are you all right, Your Majesty?" Marris, Gale's high commander at Cair Paravel, who had been playing the part of a dragon's slashing claws with his sword, asked dutifully, stepping towards Gale.

Gale waved him off. "Yes, yes, I'm quite fine now. But you see, that's exactly what I'm talking about. If I had been fighting the dragon just now, I would be dead. Dragons don't stop to ask if you're all right, I can tell you. I'll have to remember the flying dirt when I'm in the real fight."

"I don't know if this is such a good idea, Your Majesty," Marris said, shaking his head. "We haven't even added in the fire yet."

"Oh, don't you start on me now," Gale groaned. "It was trouble enough trying to convince Starhorn."

Marris shrugged. "I'm not going to argue with Your Majesty. I was simply making an observation."

"I've had my fill of sundry peoples' observations about my business over the last few days," Gale snipped. "I thank you for your concern, but I'm able to make observations on my own as well, you know."

A frown crossed Marris's face. "I'll keep any further observations to myself if that is Your Majesty's wish. Do you wish to continue with your exercise now?"

Gale chose to ignore the obvious offence that Marris had taken to his pert attitude. Although on reflection he considered that his remarks to the chief commander had been rather rude, he was thoroughly irritated by now with people disapproving of his mission. He tapped his sword point against the ground. "Yes, whenever you're ready. And give me another swing, Stonebluff," he called up to the giant.

Stonebluff frowned. "Again, Your Majesty? Are you sure once wasn't enough? I would feel terrible if I hurt you, you know."

Gale was saved the frustration of trying yet again to explain the point of the exercise to the giant by the arrival of three people in the Cair Paravel courtyard where they had been practicing. Gale sheathed his sword as they approached. Darkspot led the way, followed shyly by the chestnut Horse, Reyin. Striding beside Darkspot was a tall man with dark, grey-flecked hair and dark eyes.

Gale addressed the Horse first. "Good day, friend Reyin. If I guess correctly, you will be returning to your home in the south."

Reyin stomped a front hoof awkwardly against the ground. "Yes, Your Majesty. I don't figure I'll be of any further use here. I'm not one for sailing or dragon-fighting."

The king bowed his head in acknowledgement to the Horse's words. "You have done your work well, Reyin. It is good to know that faithful servants of Narnia like yourself are prepared to alert their king of any dangers. Travel safely."

"And may Aslan keep you safe on your journey, Your Majesty," the Horse replied. He snorted slightly, unsure of whether to leave or not without further protocol, then dipped his head with a polite shake of his mane and turned, disappearing swiftly through the courtyard gate.

Gale turned then to the dark-haired man, who had been waiting patiently with his hands behind his back. The king sized him up, nodding, "And you must be Captain Andern."

The man bowed stiffly at the waist. His nose had been broken at some point and was crooked, and he wore a gold ring in one ear. "I am, Your Majesty. I was informed that you had some use for me and my ship."

Gale nodded, pleased with what he saw in the hardy sailor. "I am in need of a good ship and a captain and crew willing to sail out to the Lone Islands."

Andern raised one eyebrow. "That's a long way, but you've come to the right man. Captain Andern and the _Wavedancer_ will get you wherever you need to go. Do you care to inspect her?"

"Indeed," Gale answered. He turned and bellowed up at Stonebluff, who had been idly peeling strips of bark of the log since he was too high up to hear the conversation going on around his feet. "Ho, Stonebluff, you're finished with your duties for the time being. Thank you for your help."

The giant nodded. "Glad I could be of service to you, Your Majesty. Are you sure I didn't hurt you at all?"

"Quite sure, and thank you, Stonebluff," Gale said with a somewhat forced smile. The ground trembled for a few seconds as the giant stumped away, his log hefted over one shoulder.

Gale nodded to Marris, Darkspot, and Andern. "Let's see this ship."

~o~o~

There was a strong sea breeze that blew out of the east across the lapping waves on the shore, bringing with it a wholesome, fresh smell. The Cair Paravel harbor was bustling as usual with newly arrived ships from Archenland, or even further from Calormen or the Seven Isles, unloading their merchandise, storm-battered vessels being repaired, and other crafts being prepared and loaded for new voyages. It was a fine sight to behold with the exciting prospects of a journey so close at hand.

~o~o~

"Were there any with purple sails?" Eustace asked enthusiastically. "Or dragon's prows? Good, old _Dawn Treader_ had a purple sail. But I don't suppose she was built until a good time after Gale."

"Who's interrupting now?" Jill said smugly.

Eustace gave her a snooty look. "I'm not interrupting, Pole. I'm just asking a question."

"It sounds like interrupting to me," Jill retorted.

"Peace, peace, you two," Tirian said sternly. "Such quarreling does not befit you. If Jewel is good enough to tell you a story, then listen while you may. For after this night, who can tell whether such stories shall ever be spoken again in Narnia."

A grave silence fell over the company, but at last, Jill spoke in a subdued voice. "I'm sorry, Eustace. Do please go on, Jewel."

The Unicorn was silent for a few seconds, and there was a look of quiet sorrow in his dark eyes, a look that the children knew was in their own eyes as well at the remembrance of their mission and Narnia's fate. At length, he spoke, his voice quiet and clear. "I do not know, Son of Adam, whether there were ships with purple sails, but such are the pleasures of a story, that if you desire, you may imagine that there were. It can do no harm, and it is good to remember fair things from our memories on dark nights."

~o~o~

Gale's eyes swept over the many ships moored at the harbor, but Captain Andern took the lead and walked towards the southern end of the wharf, where a long, tall-masted ship swayed gently on the lapping waves. There were men aboard, scurrying about the errands of seaman making ready for another voyage. There was a weather-beaten look about the ship, but a hardy, strong feeling also, and Gale thought she matched her captain well.

Andern patted her side proudly. "Here she is, Your Majesty. _Wavedancer_ and I have been sailing together for well-nigh thirty years, and there's not a bad plank on her, I can assure you. She's seen it all – storms, pirates, reefs – and she's still in one piece. She can get you wherever you want to go and farther."

Gale ran his fingers over the rough, solid wood, nodding. "I'll believe you, Captain."

A sardonic smile touched Andern's face. "Not a sailor, Your Majesty?"

Gale shook his head. "I've been to the Seven Isles once, but that was when I was a small child. Other than that, I've never gone beyond sight of land."

Andern laughed quietly. "Then prepare yourself for a rough first few days. But after you've lived through your sea sickness (though I reckon you'll have your doubts about living through it) I'm sure you'll be right at home on my _Wavedancer_. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be seeing to my crew and informing them about their duties. When shall we be ready to sail?"

"Two days from now?" Gale asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Captain Andern gave another small, stiff bow. "Two days from now, Your Majesty." He turned rapidly and strode up the gangplank where Gale could hear him calling out the names of various crew members and shouting brisk orders.

Gale turned to his two companions, smiling slightly. "I think I'm going to like Captain Andern. Now, if you two would care to join me, I have a meeting with my councilors in the throne room in fifteen minutes."

Darkspot eyed the lapping water under the wharf with distrust. "To think anyone would want to live with that sloshing around beneath them day and night. It's beyond me. Humph, you'd never catch a Leopard doing anything so foolish as being a sailor."

Gale patted her between the ears and spoke in a voice that one might use with a baby. "Oh, is the kitten afraid of getting wet paws? Well, we'd better get you to dry land before the bad old water jumps up onto the wharf and does something awful to you, hadn't we?"

Darkspot twisted her head around and latched her teeth onto Gale's arm, pressing just hard enough not to break the skin. When Gale instinctively jerked his arm away, she released him and gave a rumbling laugh. "Seems we've all got our own fears, Gale. I'd think twice before I patronized something with teeth."

Glancing at Marris, Gale shook his head and ruefully rubbed his arm. "Wild animals, Marris. You never know what they're going to do."

The smallest hint of a smile touched the chief commander's stern face. "Wild animals won't be your greatest worry if you're late to that meeting, Your Majesty. But Starhorn and a group of impatient councilors will."

Gale gave Darkspot a mock glare. "Well, it won't be my fault. I'm not the one who distracted me by complaining about the water."

Darkspot gave him a Leopard grin, bearing her teeth. Gale turned quickly back to Marris. "On the other hand, I am the one who allowed myself to be distracted. Maybe we should head for the castle before I get distracted again, eh?"

Marris's lips twisted slightly upwards. "An excellent idea, Your Majesty."


	6. Of Companions, Regents, and Heirs

Chapter 5: Of Companions, Regents, and Heirs

"I believe we all know why we are met: to decide who shall voyage with me to the Lone Islands."

Gale's quick blue eyes searched the assembly from his place at the head of the table set up in the throne room of Cair Paravel. Most were humans, the members of his council, who put their heads together in twos or threes to murmur to one another at his words, but scattered among them were a few fauns, a dwarf, and a drowsy-looking bear. Starhorn stood to one side of the table near the wall, arms folded, watching the proceedings silently, and Darkspot sat beside him, alert and with tail-twitching.

"Well, don't all start volunteering at once," Gale muttered under his breath, but he hadn't really expected a different reception, especially from his council, the members of which were predominately in their later years. He let his eyes sweep over them as he spoke again. "I will be departing in two days, whether I go alone or not. I have a captain and a crew who are willing to take me to the Lone Islands, and to the Lone Islands I shall go without delay. I will not force any of you to join me in this venture, although I had hoped to have companions other than rowdy seamen along the way."

A slight cough to his right interrupted him. Marris dipped his head briefly. "As High Commander, it is my duty and desire to accompany you and protect you as well as I am able, Your Majesty. It would be to my shame to do otherwise."

Gale smiled at his loyal commander. "I accept your offer heartily, Marris. I'll feel better knowing that your sword and the hand that can best wield it will be close beside me."

His gaze returned to the remainder of his council and he lifted a scornful eyebrow. "And any of you? Does a voyage and dragon-slaying sound like a pleasant relief from sitting in your dust-ridden studies, wearing your eyes out on old books and commenting on the weather, when you actual manage to step out of your rooms to feel it? Fresh air, anyone, and a good sea breeze? Or are you content to carry on with your dull existence as councilors of Narnia, even if all of Narnia that you've ever seen are the plots of land outside your windows?"

There was some shuffling of feet (or hooves or paws) under the table, as those gathered shifted awkwardly at their king's sarcastic speech. It was one of the oldest members of the council, a white-haired man who had served King Gareth, Gale's father, and Gareth's father before him, who answered. "Come now, Your Majesty, but are you really being fair? It is all well and good that Commander Marris would join you. As captain and solider of Cair Paravel, it is, as he said, his duty, but your councilors are not here to fight, but to council you. I know that it is useless to seek to persuade Your Majesty from turning aside from what most of us consider a foolhardy mission, but to ask any of us, none of whom have Your Majesty's strength and youthfulness anymore, to join you is going perhaps a little too far. Nor do I think we have earned your scorn. I know that I, for my part, served beside your father in the battle that took his life, and had accompanied him on many other journeys, as well. But that is no longer my duty, and I fear that I – and my comrades would agree with me in this I think – that I would be of little use when it comes to either voyaging or dragon-slaying, Your Majesty."

Gale fidgeted impatiently as the old man droned slowly on. When he seemed to have come to some sort of an ending, Gale quickly jumped in. "Yes, yes, all right, Selric, I take your point, but it still doesn't help with deciding on who shall go. You have all informed me with no uncertainty that you believe I'm headed into a dangerous mission, and it won't make it less dangerous for me to go with only Marris at my side, which is what it's looking like right now. I was hoping for at least ten companions, if not fifteen. If none of you want to go, any suggestions on who I should take?"

Again, Marris gave a polite cough and raised a hand. "I agree with Selric: among your councilors is not the place to seek companions for this journey. I can find you fifteen men of the guard who will willingly join you and serve you to the death if needs be. Although I myself have enjoyed these years of peace and would not desire to leave Narnia seeking adventure if duty did not call me, I know there are others among the young men of my guard who are of a like mind with Your Majesty and will gladly take whatever adventure befalls them."

Gale sat up straighter. "Really? Yes, see what you can do about that, Marris. Well, that clears that up, I suppose. Was there anything else that needs discussed?"

Selric's hand quivered slightly as he raised it. "Your Majesty must not forget to name a regent who will take care of the affairs of Narnia, numerous as they are, while Your Majesty is away on this voyage."

There was the soft clop of hooves on the flag stones as Starhorn stepped forward. "And, Your Majesty, I believe there is the question of an heir, should you unhappily fall in battle with the dragon."

Gale's shoulders slumped slightly. "Oh yes, I'd forgotten about that."

Starhorn gave him a stern look. "You may have forgotten, Your Majesty, but it is an important matter to which serious thought must be given. No small peril awaits you, and I have read in the stars of a doom upon you and a change in the fortunes of Narnia. Whether this foretells your death, I do not know, but it is wise to be prepared. Should you die, you leave behind no son, brothers, or any other kin that the crown may pass to. The news of the death of the King of Narnia would soon spread beyond our borders, and without a leader, Narnia would be open to invasion. It is your duty to name an heir, if you should meet with misfortune."

Gale nodded to the centaur. "Well, I'm naming you as the Regent of Narnia, Starhorn, while I'm away. You governed Narnia's affairs for years after my father's death, while I was too young to make decisions, after all. I trust that you will do a fine job with it, and I can't imagine anyone bothering a country while a centaur is looking after it."

Starhorn bowed his head. "I will accept Your Majesty's offer of the position of Regent while you are gone."

"But that still leaves the decision about an heir," the dwarf rumbled in a deep, earthy voice. "We all know that Starhorn cannot take that position. Narnia should be ruled by a Son of Adam, just as Aslan directed at the beginning."

Gale sank into his thoughts, rather annoyed at himself. He had completely neglected to think about naming an heir, even though it was a glaring problem. That, he considered moodily, was probably why it had so conveniently slipped his mind.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he looked up again. "Well, I'd name Marris, but since he's coming with me and has the same guarantee of coming back as I do, I don't suppose that will work. What about any of you? You have all served me long and well and probably know more about the ordering of a kingdom than I do. If I died, I wouldn't be displeased to know that one of you would be taking up the crown. Selric? You've served three kings and seen many winters. Would you take up the crown if I died?"

The old man was obviously surprised. "Your Majesty? Well, yes, I…I would if that truly is what Your Majesty wishes, although I suppose a younger fellow would be better suited for the job. I've served the royal house of King Frank for sixty years, but I never had my eye on the throne, I can assure you. I won't argue if Your Majesty persists, but are there no younger men who might be better options?"

Gale was surprised to find that when he thought about it, he couldn't think of any man, or woman for that matter, close to his own age who he knew well, except for Marris, and even Marris was not so much of a friend as a loyal captain. It wasn't that he didn't like people or wasn't friendly, he thought, but that he enjoyed being his own company, reading, riding, or simply pleasuring in the scenery. He wondered suddenly if he should have been making more of an effort to get to know some of the younger captains or nobles of Cair Paravel for such a time as this. Well, he hadn't anyway, so wondering wasn't any help at the moment. He turned his attention back to Selric.

"I appreciate your concern, Selric, but I think I shall stick with my first decision. If I do die and you become king, you may pass the crown on to whomever else you feel is worthy when the time comes. But hopefully, it will be something that none of us will have to deal with."

Selric kept to his word and made no further objections, although the old man was clearly stunned by Gale's choice. Gale was satisfied with it, however, and very eager to be done with the tedious council and return to the more important business of preparing for the voyage. "Well, anything else that needs settled immediately? Or can I call this meeting done?"

There were a few murmurs from around the room, but when nobody made a move to raise any more questions or to comment, Gale waved a hand at them. "Then this meeting is finished. You may all go about your business, and, Marris, pick out fourteen of your best men by the end of the day. I want to see them here in the throne room after supper tonight."

There was a mass scraping of chair legs against the floor, as the councilors rose and exited, talking amongst one another in low voices as they went. Starhorn remained a few moments longer, gazing thoughtfully across the hall with a distant look in his eyes, but then he too bowed his head formally to Gale, and clip-clopped out of the hall after the last of the councilors, leaving only Gale and Darkspot in the throne room.

"Thank the Lion that's over," Gale said, slumping all the way back in his chair and taking off his crown. "Ugh, I just detest councils."

Darkspot rose from her haunches and glided over to his chair. "They are a part of being a king. It's not a life that can be all play and no work."

"I wouldn't ever have chosen to be a king," Gale said. "I'd much rather have your part: spending time with a friend without ever having to worry about councils and heirs and all that wretched nonsense."

Darkspot growled deep in her throat. "Don't talk like that. You are honored to be King of Narnia, and to speak ill of your position is to speak ill of the One who gave it to you. And I have my own worries to deal with, for your information."

Gale raised an eyebrow. "What sort of things do you have to worry about?"

"You," Darkspot answered bluntly.

Gale glared at her, not sure whether the Leopard was serious or joking. "I have the capabilities of watching over myself, you know."

Darkspot closed her eyes. "Yes, you just don't use them all the time."

Gale sighed and rubbed his brow. "What is it now that has got you worrying?"

"That we will be sailing off on a voyage with a fierce dragon at the end of it in just two days. Is that not reason enough to worry?"

It took a second for Gale to notice the odd part of her statement. "We? You're not coming, are you? What happened to Leopards not doing anything so foolish as sailing?"

Darkspot's tail thrashed uncomfortably. "I'd been thinking it all over during the council. If anything happens to you, I want to be there with you, and I couldn't bear it if you died without a friend by your side. I know you don't have any close friends besides me, and I will be ashamed to let my friend go to face unknown dangers without me. No, I don't want to go and the thought of having to live on a boat for who knows how long makes my stomach flutter, but I don't want to stay here without you anymore than I want to go."

Gale was stunned. "Well, that's…that's a valiant offer, Darkspot, but I'm sure I can manage without you. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Darkspot's teeth showed as she emitted a long growl. "If you go, I'm going, whether you like it or not. I can be every bit as stubborn as you."

Gale raised his hands in a surrendering movement. "All right, all right. If you are ready to brave the ocean, then I won't make any objections. Just make sure you've thought it all through, because we're not turning back if you change your mind half-way there."

"I've thought it through, just as thoroughly as you've thought your decision through, I'm sure," Darkspot said definitively. Her face softened, and her teeth vanished from Gale's view. "Anyway, if this isn't what friends are for, what are they for? No dragon will get your back while I'm watching it."

Grinning, Gale reached down and patted her head fondly. "And no waves will sweep you overboard while I'm watching you. I'm glad you're coming, Darkspot. This journey is looking brighter and brighter."

They fell silent for a while. Gale looked out one of the tall eastern windows in the hall, watching wisps of cloud drift across it. He imagined the sails of _Wavedancer_ bellying out and the rise and fall of the ship under his feet. The thought of escaping the confines of Cair Paravel, beautiful and dear to him as the castle was, lifted his spirits. His thoughts turned to the council, and his good mood sagged briefly.

"What did you make of the council?" he asked Darkspot, who was still sitting on the floor beside him with her eyes closed. "Do you think I made the right decision in naming Selric as my heir?"

Darkspot yawned and opened her eyes. "Why do you ask me? Yes, Selric was a fine decision – he is wise and knows how to govern a kingdom – but he is also right in saying that a younger man, who will rule for many years before he goes to Aslan's Country, might have been better."

Gale frowned. "I couldn't think of anyone, Darkspot. I don't know any of the young nobles except as faces and names. You are my only close friend – you said it yourself. I'd never thought about it before, and it doesn't bother me, I guess, but do you think I've done wrong, especially when I don't have a son?"

"I don't know," Darkspot replied. "But I'm not surprised by it. You've always been a bit aloof, and if you don't mind me saying, you have a rather sharp temper and sarcastic personality sometimes. You aren't always the easiest person to get along with. You could have been kinder to your councilors at the meeting, for example."

Gale knew she was right. He sighed. "It seems like I can't help it. I was already impatient with the meeting in general, and I don't understand how none of them would enjoy getting away from here every once in a while. They aren't all as old as Selric."

Darkspot rose and walked a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at Gale, her eyes glowing slightly in the shadowed hall. "No, but they are as content as he is. Maybe someday you will join them in their contentedness with peace, but I don't expect it of you anytime soon. And since you have an adventure before you, aren't there things you should be seeing to? Packing, perhaps? Or planning routes?"

Gale pushed himself up from his chair. "Yes, there's all that and more. Since you're joining us on this merry little trip, I don't suppose you'd like to help."

The Son of Adam and the Leopard walked side by side through the hall, discussing the innumerable duties that needed to be performed before the voyage started. Gale began to wonder if adventures were really more trouble than they were worth after all.


	7. Eastward Bound

Chapter 6: Eastward Bound

The next two days were far too frantic for Gale to worry about anything other than being ready in time. He had been down to the harbor more times than he could count, seeing to the provisioning of _Wavedancer_ and discussing possible routes with Captain Andern. He had been out to the barracks at Cair Paravel to look over the fifteen men that Marris had picked out to be his companions and guards, and had given them a few warning words about dragon-fighting and their duties on the trip. He had seen to his own packing, deciding what was absolutely necessary and what would be nothing but a burden. He had talked with Selric and Starhorn about anything and everything that might go wrong and what should be done in each situation. Between it all, he had thoroughly worn himself out, and the journey hadn't even started yet.

"Drat preparation," he said in disgust. "It's more work than fighting five dragons."

"Your Majesty may be of a different opinion when we get to the Lone Islands," said Marris, who was polishing his shield until the yellow Lion at its center gleamed.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not," Gale answered peevishly. "All this planning and reconsidering and more planning afterwards is draining me and making me restless at the same time. I just want to board that ship and leave. If we run into a problem, we can deal with it then. And short of leaving my sword and spear behind, or the ship, I can't see how we can forget anything of too great importance. I want to leave, Marris."

"The flower that buds too early in Spring is the one that dies in the frost," Marris said without looking up, "and the rabbit that hops from the warren without looking both ways becomes the fox's dinner."

"If you haven't noticed, Marris, I'm not a flower or a rabbit," Gale said.

Marris just heaved a small sigh and went on polishing his shield.

Darkspot appeared in the main gate and trotted over, plopping herself down in the grass between the two men. Her breathing came in a quick hiss between her teeth and her chest rapidly rose and fell. Gale reached over and stroked her velvety ear. "What have you been up to today, my friend?"

The Leopard looked up at him through half-closed eyes. "I was running through the woods and chasing the thrushes and squirrels if you want to know. I don't know how long it might be before I have good solid ground beneath my paws again, and I don't think Captain Andern and the sailors would appreciate me dashing through their boat to release my energy. Men are one thing, but cats are another, and we need our open space and our time to frolic."

"Then a ship doesn't seem like a good place for a cat for several weeks," Gale said. "Have you reconsidered your decision to join us?"

"No," she answered, "I will bear the confinement as best I can. But I won't waste an opportunity for a good run while I still have it."

"You are lucky," he said. "I would enjoy a good ride in the woods and a leisurely stroll, but I'm all worn out and there are still odds and ins that need to be seen to before tomorrow. You had an easy time of packing – cats don't require clothes for all different occasions and weapons and documents and anything else that my councilors decide a king needs."

Darkspot stretched out her front legs, her claws digging into the earth. "You are the one who wanted an adventure, Gale."

Gale rubbed his brow. "This isn't an adventure – this is business and a dreary business at that. The real adventure will begin when we finally start off, but it would have been better, more exciting, if we had started off at once, as soon as we got the message from Reyin. Adventures, the really good kind, don't have preparation; you're just flung into them and you have to make due with what you have."

~o~o~

"Hear, hear," said Eustace, "although I wouldn't have minded some of the other kind every now and then, as well."

"What?" Jill asked, frowning slightly.

"You know, adventures," Eustace answered. "Being just flung into them and all. That's all that ever seems to happen to us. Like this time – you're sitting all comfortable and jolly in a train in England one minute and the next you're dumped into a Narnian wood with nothing but the clothes you have on and a few sandwiches. That's the only type of adventure I've ever had, and it's ripping, but I wouldn't have minded one or two where I was actually ready for them."

At the mention of England and the train, a brief, sad look passed over Jill's face. "I wonder what all the others are doing and if they managed to find the magic rings. I hope they aren't worried about us, and I wish they could have come, too. I know they couldn't have, but Lucy would have liked this story. She would have said she wanted to meet Darkspot and stroke her velvety ears."

"By gum, that's probably exactly what she would have said," Eustace answered. "You know, Pole, I miss them, too."

The two children fell into a thoughtful silence. Jewel looked at them with his stern gaze, but did not speak. There was a deep silence around them, like the air before a great storm.

"I miss home ever so much," Jill said at last. "This isn't like the last time at all. Then there was Puddleglum and the Prince, and it was dark and terrible at times, but you had this feeling that in the end everything was going to turn out all right somehow."

"Yes," Eustace said quietly, "and there was Aslan that time and the Signs and all, even if we miffed all but one. We knew it would come out all right – it had to, because Aslan wouldn't have let it go too wrong."

Finally, Jewel spoke. "And will he let it go wrong this time, Son of Adam? Just because he has not spoken, does that mean he is not at work?"

The children looked into the wise Unicorn's eyes and both felt a deep sense of abashment, as if they had spoken too quickly and out of turn. "No, I suppose it doesn't," Eustace said slowly.

"No," Jill whispered.

The Unicorn bowed his head and his long horn gleamed. "Do you wish to hear more now, or have you grown tired of the tale?"

"Oh no!" both children said quickly, and Jill added, "Of course not, Jewel dear, and you are ever so patient. We won't interrupt again."

A glimmer of a smile appeared in Jewel's eyes. "I do not mind. Speak what needs to be spoken; it is better than keeping your thoughts trammeled. But now, if you have spoken your thoughts for now, I will speak more of Gale."

~o~o~

"I have a feeling we're in for a deep enough adventure as it is, Your Majesty," Marris said. He had moved on to polishing his long sword, but had been listening to the conversation. "Sailing to far lands that few Narnians have ever set eyes on before would be adventure enough, but we have a dragon at the end of our journey, don't forget. And who knows what other events may befall us; the sea is a strange and wild place."

"Yes, yes," Gale sighed, "and I am sure all restlessness and weariness shall fall from me when we get going. It's just this waiting that is driving me insane."

Marris and Darkspot exchanged glances. "Well, the waiting is almost over, Your Majesty," the high commander said.

"And then we shall see what we shall see," murmured Darkspot.

~o~o~

The next morning came in a blaze of pink and orange that spread across the calm sea with only a few low clouds to block the rising sun. Gale saw the sun slowly rise up out of the pale blue water from his window. He had already been up for an hour, making last minute inspections, although almost everything had already been loaded onto _Wavedancer_. Mostly though, he had simply paced his room, feeling a deep impatience in his very core. Finally, they would be off. As soon as he saw the arc of yellow rising above the ocean, he slipped his cloak over his shoulders and headed down to the main courtyard.

They were to set off at ten o' clock. At nine, the company was met on the wharf, and Gale looked up at the ship gently rocking on the tame waves. The sailors were scurrying about her, tying and loosing ropes, checking and double checking their craft. Andern stood at the top of the gangplank, his loose, dark hair fluttering across his face in the brisk morning breeze. The fifteen men of the Cair Paravel guard waited patiently on the wharf behind Gale, and beyond them along the shore, the Narnians of the castle were gathered to see them off.

Darkspot glided daintily across the wharf towards Gale, lifting her paws high and putting them down carefully to avoid the numerous pools of water that lay on the wooden tier. She stared up at the swaying ship with a distrustful light in her eyes. "You are quite sure this thing is safe?"

"Oh, I'm sure Andern and his men know what they're doing," Gale said. "I'm not worried, but if you are, you still have time to return to dry land."

"I'm staying right at your side the whole time," the Leopard answered. "You're stuck with me through fair weather and foul."

"Let's hope there isn't much of the foul," Gale said, "but Andern didn't seem concerned. He says that this isn't a bad season for sailing, as far as storms are concerned anyway. According to him, pirates will be a bigger problem, but we're well armed, and they'll probably think twice before attacking."

Darkspot's tail twitched. "I hope so."

Gale looked around. "Where is Marris? He's the only one we're missing now."

Darkspot's keen eyes scanned the landscape back up towards the castle. "He's coming now. Marina is with him."

Gale saw the two dark shapes of the high commander and his wife, a young golden-haired woman, and felt a little twinge of guilt. He knew Marris was coming only out of duty to him. The two reached the docks, and Marris embraced Marina, whispering something in her ear before kissing her gently and turning away to stride towards the wharf. Gale saw Marina press a white hand to her lips in a pained way.

Marris cast an eye over his men, nodding approvingly, then approached Gale. He looked drawn, as if he had not slept well, but he stood straight and proud before his king and gave him a small bow. "Everything is in order, Your Majesty. We are ready to leave."

They boarded _Wavedancer_. Captain Andern bowed low to Gale and waved a hand towards the raised stern. "Welcome to _Wavedancer_, Your Majesty. We are ready to set sail as soon as you give the command."

"Thank you, Captain," Gale said with a smile. He mounted the stern deck and looked out over the Narnians on the shore, raising a hand. "Farewell, Narnians, my friends. I am confident in my mission, and by the Lion's will, I shall return to you shortly with tales of distant places and an expanded kingdom. I trust my regent Starhorn shall be able to take care of my beloved land as long as I am away, and should unhappy misfortune befall me, I leave my crown to Selric. Trust in Aslan, friends, and do not fear for our well-being. Farewell."

Choruses of farewells resounded from the shore as the ship was loosed and began to sail eastward. For a long time, Gale could still stand on the stern, gazing back west, and see the dark mass of his gathered subjects and behind them the regal towers of Cair Paravel. But finally, Gale turned his face to the east and the ocean and closed his eyes, breathing deeply of the sea breeze. They were off at last. The adventure had begun.


	8. Concerning Sea Sickness and Pirates

Chapter 7: Concerning Sea Sickness and Pirates

As Captain Andern had predicted, the next few days were decidedly unpleasant for Gale. After spending the first day curled on his bunk with his eyes tightly closed, feeling the vessel rising and dipping violently beneath him, the king of Narnia was seriously reconsidering his decision to sail to the Lone Islands. "I won't be fit for anything once I get there, walking as much as dragon-slaying," he groaned to himself as the evening of the first day came to a close. Smells of supper that usually would have been tantalizing were floating from the galley kitchen, but Gale buried his face in his pillow to escape the odors that were currently making his stomach turn.

His only source of comfort was Darkspot. It seemed that Leopards did not get sea sick, but the rocking motion of the ship was utterly unsettling to her. Although she had not admitted it, Gale suspected she was terrified. She refused to go above deck, but lay curled on a nearby bunk, and Gale could see that her claws were out and dug deep into the coverlets holding her firmly in place. She had told him that she was merely keeping him company until he felt better, and though Gale had his suspicions about the truth of that statement, he remained silent and let his feline friend keep what dignity she had managed to retain. Not that he felt like arguing anyway.

The strong smells of supper were still thick on the air when a knock came at the door. He had been provided with his own quarters by the Captain's chamber, a spacious guest room with a few bunks that he, Marris, and Darkspot would be sharing. He had not seen any of the crew or his guards all day at his own request, but he gave a low moan of "Come in" when he heard the knock.

It was the captain. He was bearing a steaming bowl in his hands, the smell of which made Gale want to turn back and bury his face once again in his pillow, but he forced a weak smile. "Yes, Captain? Am I needed?"

He tried to half-rise, but Andern gave a sign that he should remain where he was. "Nay, nay, Your Majesty," he said. "The weather is calm, we have our bearings, and the ship is set on a straight course for the Lone Islands, guided by your map. There is a fair wind at present, and we are making good time. Nay, Your Majesty is not needed. Rather, I came to see about your health. How does sailing suit you?"

Gale gave a feeble, bitter laugh. "I could be doing better, Captain."

Andern nodded, his face grim. "Aye, and you're not the only one. There are at least six of your men who have never had a rolling deck beneath their feet either, but the lot of you will be up on your feet and feeling as hearty as old sailors in a day or two. I brought you something," he added, setting down the bowl on a table by Gale's bedside.

Gale turned his face away. "I thank you for your pains and hospitality, but really, I couldn't eat anything. I'm sure it's delicious, but I'll have to wait a day or two before I can send the cook my regards."

This brought a low chuckle from Andern. "Aye, I figured that would be your response, but this isn't from the cook. It's a special brew of my own, a light broth made from some of the herbs I store in the kitchen. I doubt it's delicious, but it should help some if you can get it down."

With a sigh, Gale took the bowl between his hands. The wooden vessel was slightly warm, but the fumes rising from the pale broth made him choke. He took a deep breath and gulped the contents.

It was not as bad as he had expected, and instead of feeling his insides writhe in protest, his stomach settled somewhat. He could feel the warmth all along his throat, a warmth that spread to the rest of his body. He was still not ready to stand up and walk about, but suddenly the prospect of sleeping that night didn't sound so difficult. He sighed again, this time contentedly, and set down the empty bowl. "Thank you, Captain, that's much better. I might even get some sleep tonight."

Andern bowed at the waist, then took the bowl. "Your Majesty is welcome. I hope your first night aboard _Wavedancer_ is satisfactory, and I am sure you will enjoy yourself once you are feeling better."

He was turning to go when he noticed Darkspot curled on the next bunk. Her claws were still buried deep into the bed, but her chin was resting on the covers and her eyes were closed. Andern gave Gale a curious glance. "Is your friend feeling well? I am sorry, but I did not know whether cats would fall sick at sea or not. I can prepare more of my draught if it would help."

"No thank you, Captain Andern," Darkspot said with her eyes still closed. "I don't think your broth would help my situation at all. It is not my stomach that ails me; rather it is my heart that fails me. Cats were not made to be sailors."

The faintest smile tugged Andern's lips, and he bowed again in the Leopard's direction, even though she could not see him. "My apologies for disturbing you, then. But perhaps some remedy can be found to aid you, yet. After all, it would be sad if all you saw of the glories of the great sea were limited to the inside of a cabin. But I will leave the both of you, if there is nothing more that you require."

"Thank you, Captain, but there is nothing," Gale answered.

The door creaked quietly behind Andern. Feeling revived for the moment with the hot broth soothing his stomach, Gale rolled on his back, staring up at the intricate wood work on the ceiling. "I didn't know you were awake, Darkspot."

He heard her heave a small sigh that came out between her teeth in a hiss. "I don't know how anyone could sleep with the fear of being tossed rudely from their bed and swept overboard or drowned if the ship goes down."

"I think the chances of either of those happening are slim," Gale said. "But Andern's right, you can't stay down here for the next few weeks refusing food."

"I have time aplenty to test the courage of my heart," Darkspot said. "You will be well soon, and maybe then I will venture onto the deck, provided it is a very calm day."

"Just because I'm well, it won't mean that the ship will stop rocking," Gale answered.

"Yes, I know, but if you will brave the open decks with me, then I will find the courage to accompany you, I think. But, oh, I never thought dry land could sound so wonderful. How far are the Lone Islands?"

Gale yawned. The warmth had crept all through his body, and his eyelids felt heavy. He vaguely wondered what herbs exactly had been in Andern's draught, but he was not going to complain about some help in going to sleep. "I don't know. Ask one of the sailors or Andern; they're bound to know. I'm no good with maps, especially those at sea where everything looks the same, but Andern seemed to think we had a several week journey ahead of us."

Another sigh came from Darkspot. "Well, then I shall have to find my sea legs sometime, though Aslan protect me from cruel waves and sea spray."

Gale only half heard his friend's words. He was slipping quickly into a distant world, but one that still bucked and swayed beneath him.

~o~o~

Gale was up before noon of the next day and able to dine with the crew and his guards at lunch, which was a thick sea stew that satisfied his empty stomach. Darkspot had come with him, keeping as close to the cabin wall as she could with Gale between her and the railing. Even Gale had to admit that he would not yet want to venture near the low wooden railing, for twice in the short trek from the cabin to the stern stairs that led down to the dining room, he lost his balance as _Wavedancer_ swayed dangerously to one side. In those instants, he flailed his hands wildly, leaning over and trying to regain his footing, but he did not fall, and with one hand on the cabin wall, he made his careful way, step by step, to the stairs. Darkspot leapt down in front of him, shaking moisture from her paws.

Marris had been to sea on a number of occasions before, for his father had been a sailor. He stood to attention, swaying gently with the ship, as Gale entered the room, and bowed his head. "I am glad to see Your Majesty up and well, and you too, Darkspot. Will you join us for lunch?"

Gale sat down beside him at the table head with Andern at his right. The crew and his guards were already eating, and the room was filled with the sounds of laughing, talking, and raucous singing, almost all from the sailors, although a few of Gale's guards had joined in. "Thank you, Marris, I think I shall," Gale said, smiling in the cheerful atmosphere. "There's nothing like being sick to make one respect health again, and I haven't eaten since the evening of the day before yesterday."

"And for you, Darkspot," the captain said, "does stew suit you, or shall I find something else more befitting a Cat?"

Darkspot was sitting on her haunches between Gale's and Marris's seats, seemingly comfortable at the moment with her friends on either side. "I will try the stew. If it is good enough for Narnia's king, then it is good enough for a humble Talking Leopard."

~o~o~

And so the days passed. Gale grew accustomed to the constant feeling of a rolling deck and soon could walk the length of the ship without a single stumble. Even Darkspot eventually grew used to the deck, although she refused to come too close to the railing. Gale, however, enjoyed standing on the raised stern deck, leaning against the railing and watching the water flow by beneath him. He spent hours sometimes in that position, his eyes flickering over the vast blue-green depths, then out to the horizon where mile upon mile of open water stretched without a glimpse of land or another vessel. At these times, Darkspot would lie in the center of the deck, or sit with her tail lashing behind her, her large, fierce eyes roaming. Sometimes they talked, but often they simply lingered in the quiet and peace.

It was one such day as this, a clear, hard day with a strong sea wind from the west driving _Wavedancer_ towards her goal, some ten days after setting sail from Narnia, that something happened. Gale was in his usual position at the stern of the ship, staring at their wake and enjoying the fresh breeze on his face, while Darkspot lay close by, awake, but with her eyes closed.

"I think I like adventures very much, Darkspot," Gale said with a happy sigh. "I really should have them more often. And you were worried that I wouldn't like an adventure once I had it. What do you say now?"

Darkspot's ears had swiveled towards the sound of his voice, but her eyes remained closed. "I would say that we have hardly had an adventure. That, I believe still lies ahead of us. We will see if you still enjoy them after you have battled a dragon, for do not forget the purpose of our little trip, my friend."

Now that he was used to the rocking motion and was over his sea sickness, Gale found that he did like sailing and the sea. The dragon still seemed far away, and he could not find it in his heart to worry or break the pleasant spell of the ocean. "Yes, I suppose," he said absently, "but it's delightful all the same. I knew I needed a break from court life."

"I hope you do not find it more dreary than ever when you get back after having been gone," Darkspot replied.

Gale turned to face her, leaning his back on the railing. "So do I, but I think rather that I will be refreshed and able to face it again for a while when I return."

When he turned, he was then facing in towards the center of the ship, and it was then that he noticed several men standing at the port railing down below. Marris was there, as well as _Wavedancer_'s first mate, a bulky sailor named Darian. Captain Andern stood with a spyglass looking north. Automatically, Gale's eyes flickered north as well, and there on the horizon, he caught sight of a black shape bobbing just above the waves.

With some animal instinct, Darkspot sensed Gale's sudden change of focus. She opened her eyes. "What is it, Gale?"

"I don't know," Gale muttered back, "but I guess they do." He climbed down to the lower deck, followed by Darkspot, and approached the three men, who were talking amongst themselves.

"Is something wrong?" Gale asked, stepping up beside Andern. "What's out there?"

"A ship, Your Majesty," Andern answered brusquely.

Gale squinted out at the black shape; it seemed larger, but it was hard to tell against the blinding sunlight glancing off the water. "Is it a problem, Captain?"

Andern folded the spyglass. "Well, not necessarily or immediately, Your Majesty. We are passing the Seven Isles, and they have many ships to go in between the islands."

Gale looked from the captain to the grim faces of Darian and Marris. "And?"

Andern gave him a keen glance. "The people of the Seven Isles sail, but they have small crafts for the most part, just to get them from one island to another. They hardly ever go out into open water. We're a good twelve leagues south of the islands now, too far for it to be one of their normal vessels. One of their ships could have blown too far out, but the wind is blowing the wrong direction for that, and we haven't had any foul weather. Only a fool of a captain could manage to get his ship blown this far south in a fair wind like we've had for the last few days."

Gale suspected he knew the answer to his next question before he asked it. "And what are the other possibilities?"

"Pirates, Your Majesty," Darian answered, confirming Gale's guess.

"Pirates? Should we be worried?" Gale said, glancing back at Andern.

The captain shrugged. "Well, it would be foolish to ignore them, but I don't expect any trouble. Pirates aren't uncommon in these waters. They haunt the Seven Isles, just as they do most archipelagoes and places where there are bound to be ships. They prey mostly on the small merchant crafts that sail in between the Islands, or sometimes, if they're bold, they make raids on the coastal settlements for slaves which they sell south in Calormen. But they don't usually attack large vessels like ours out at sea; they know most of our types go well armed and can put up a hearty fight. Even if they did attack, we would be able to rout them, especially with Your Majesty's extra guards."

They returned their gaze to the distant ship. It was perhaps slightly closer, though not by much if by anything. "Do you think they've spotted us?" Gale asked.

"Oh aye," Andern said, "they're sailing south and we're right in their way, so they're bound to have noticed us. But they don't look much closer to me. They might be holding back, letting us pass by before they go on. They probably don't want to risk a fight with an unknown vessel. At heart, most of them are cowards."

Gale let Andern's information sink in, but suddenly something struck him. "Wait! You said they're heading south?"

"Aye, Your Majesty, almost due south."

"And you said they sell slaves in Calormen?"

"Aye, some of them do."

"If they're this far from the Islands and sailing due south, wouldn't that mean that they're heading for Calormen, then?" Gale asked excitedly. "Wouldn't it mean they have a load of slaves from the Islands?"

"Most likely you're right, Your Majesty," Andern said. "Filthy scum!"

Gale turned to face the three men, his eyes flashing. "Could we catch them, Captain? You said we could win in a fight."

A grim scowl settled over Andern's face as he realized what Gale was suggesting. "Your Majesty, I would not recommend such an action. Yes, we could probably win such a skirmish, but it would be foolish to risk it when they are not provoking us."

"That ship might be full of people from the Seven Islands: Narnians," Gale shot back, feeling his blood rising. "If we can rescue them from a life of slavery in that heathen country, then it should be our duty to try."

"Gale…" Darkspot tried to interrupt placatingly, but Gale ignored her.

"I am not a man to sit idly around and stare at ships from a safe distance when my people might be in danger," he said angrily.

Andern's face grew grimmer. "I am sorry, Your Majesty, but my duty is first and foremost to protect my ship and crew. I may have said we could win a fight, but I did not say we could win it without loss of men and damage to _Wavedancer_."

"If you were any man but the captain of this ship, I would say those are the words of a coward."

Andern's eyes were icy. "And if you, Your Majesty, were any man but the King of Narnia, I would say those are the words of a fool."

"Please, Gale, listen to reason," Darkspot pleaded.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Marris said, stepping in beside Gale. "The captain is much more experienced in these matters then we are. If he says it is foolish to try attacking, then we should listen to him."

"And leave those disgusting traders to sell my people to Calormen!" Gale fumed. "I won't tolerate it. You're all against me, and here I am wanting to do some good. Do you know why those pirates can do what they do? Because no one is brave enough to stand up and fight them. Well, I won't sit here and watch them sail off."

"Your Majesty is free to swim after them if he likes, but this ship is not turning aside," Andern growled back. "I was hired to take you to the Lone Islands, not to fight pirates."

"Think, Your Majesty," Marris said, restraining Gale, "if we turn aside to fight them, then almost certainly some of our men will be wounded or injured. Your Majesty's life could even be threatened. If we let them sail by, some people may be sold as slaves, but no lives will be lost at least. I don't like it anymore than you do, but listen. We already have a mission, and the Lone Islanders are depending on us to save them. If we stop to fight, not only might we lose men in the battle, but how many more Lone Islanders will die in our delay? It is sad and angering to watch those scum sail off, I know, but we cannot stop all evil in the world, and we have already sworn to stop the dragon. In such matters, we must have priorities. We must not turn aside from our mission."

Gale knew his high commander was speaking with reason, but he did not want to lose the argument in front of the glowering captain and first mate, and his blood was still hot. Drawing himself up, he stared Marris in the eyes, his own eyes blazing. "We will all be dishonored if we leave without even attempting battle. They are Narnians, and by the Lion, so are all of you. I am their king and yours, and if you do not want to be counted as rebels to the crown of Narnia, then you will do as I say. Am I your King or not?"

Turning to face Andern's cold stare with his own fiery eyes, Gale commanded, "Captain, as the King of Narnia, I order you to turn this ship about and meet those pirates in battle!"

For a moment, there was a strained silence in which no one knew what would happen next. Anger radiated from both men, king and captain, but finally Andern bowed his head stiffly, and turned away. "All hands on deck!" he roared. "Turn her north and head straight for that ship! Arm yourselves. We have a battle to win!"


	9. A Battle and What Came Of It

Chapter 8: A Battle and What Came of It

_ Wavedancer_'s sails slackened as she turned north and out of the westwardly wind that had been driving her forward. The foam about the prow lessened as the ship lost speed, and Gale stared in dismay at the distant black spot that was the pirate ship. "What's happening, Captain?" he shouted to Andern who had mounted the stern deck and had hold of the great ship's wheel. "We're losing speed. This had better not be your doing!"

"Oars below, Darian," Andern roared at his first mate, ignoring Gale. "Full strength ahead. Set the reserves along the port rail with the bows behind and the grappling hooks and long spears forward."

"They're turning, Captain!" the lookout called from the crow's nest. "Heading due north with oars out."

"Keep them in your sight," Andern called back.

Gale knew that all the activity that had sprung up around him was his doing, but he didn't like being ignored all the same. He mounted the stern deck and stood beside Andern. "Are we going to catch them? We're hardly moving."

"What do you expect?" Andern gritted, the muscles on his arms straining as he held the wheel in place. "We're sailing across the wind now, not with it. We could tack, but the pirates aren't doing it, and they'd soon leave us far behind. We'll have to see whose crew can row the hardest, Your Majesty, and it's certainly not an ideal situation with over half our men tiring themselves out below deck. We can still abandon this madness and continue east if you'll give the word."

Gale disregarded the last comment. "If the pirates are rowing too, they'll be just as tired as our men will be. Seems we'll be on equal ground. And it must be a good sign that they're trying to sail away."

"Unless they have friends at the Seven Islands to back them up," Andern growled. "Only a fool underestimates an enemy."

_Wavedancer_ shuddered as her sixteen oars dipped into the sea and pulled back as one. Immediately, the bow wave returned as the ship began to plow north through the water. Below, Gale could hear the chanting of the men as they heaved the oars through the water as one. "Down! Forward! Up! Back! Down! Forward! Up! Back!"

The sailors who weren't rowing, along with Gale's men, were lined in two rows along the stern railing, the archers, of which there were only seven, standing behind while the front row brandished a combination of long spears, swords, and grappling hooks attached to long ropes. Marris was darting along the line, swaying with the ship's movement, shouting encouragement and directing his men, while Darian organized the _Wavedancer_'s crew.

"We're gaining," the lookout called. "Half a mile, Captain."

Andern grunted in reply and moved the wheel slightly to compensate for a gust of wind from the west.

Gale stared at the pirate ship, shading his eyes with a hand to lessen the light glancing off the waves and the hard blue sky. There was no doubt about it: the ship was closer, and Gale could even make out individual men scampering about the deck.

"They're riding low in the water," Andern said. Gale looked at him, surprised the captain had deigned to address him first. "It seems Your Majesty was right: they have a full cargo hold, and human flesh is heavy. We'll have caught up in ten minutes. Then you can hope, Your Majesty, that there aren't many of them and they aren't well armed."

Despite the grudging look still plastered on his face and his morose demeanor, Andern's dark eyes were glinting. There was an angry look in them, and Gale was fairly sure it wasn't directed at him.

"And then what, Captain?"

Gale jumped at the sound of Darkspot's voice directly beside him. He hadn't heard her come up next to him or sensed her presence. Her claws were out and holding firmly onto the deck planks, but there was a determined light in her eyes and her fear of the sea was all but gone.

"Then we'll have to see what they do," Andern answered. "We'll pull up along their starboard side and see if they attack. If they try to board us, it'll give us the advantage, but I don't think they will for that very reason. We'll have to be ready to board them as soon as we can. Do you want prisoners, Your Majesty?"

Gale smiled at the implications of Andern's question – the captain was already assuming they'd win – but then frowned as he considered his answer. "If you can, I would prefer it, Captain, but if they don't surrender, do what you must to take the ship. The lives of our men and of the prisoners are more important than the lives of the pirates. But don't kill them needlessly."

Andern nodded and grunted, his eyes fixed on the nearing ship.

The pirate vessel was scarcely fifty feet away by now. Gale could hear the voices of shouting men on the deck and the splash of the oars. The faces that appeared at the railing, glaring at their pursuers, were a mix of fair Narnian skin and dark Calormene complexions. As the ships drew even closer, an order was shouted from the pirate ship, and the oars stopped their monotonous movement. The ship slowed down considerably.

"It would be wise if Your Majesty took to my cabin during the fight," Andern said. "It's going to be a hard skirmish, and we don't want to risk losing you."

Gale felt his pride pricked and his blood tingle angrily. "If I am to go to the cabin, then I insist that you join me, Captain," he shot back. "After all, we can't risk losing you either."

A muscle along Andern's jaw bulged as he clinched his teeth. He snorted. "Very well, Your Majesty, don't say I didn't warn you. You'd best prepare yourself now."

Barely twenty feet separated the ships. _Wavedancer_'s prow was quickly nearing the starboard side of the pirate ship's stern. "Archers, ready!" Darian bellowed at his sailors.

Gale drew his sword. Sweat dripped down his neck, matting his golden hair to his nape. He'd never been in a true fight before, though he had trained for it since childhood. Excitement coursed through him, mingled with a healthy dose of trepidation.

An order was shouted below deck, and the oars ceased their movement. _Wavedancer_ glided on a few more feet and came to rest beside the pirate ship.

"Fire!" shouted Darian.

"Fire!" shouted a black-bearded Calormene from the pirate ship's deck.

A small hail of arrows fell onto both decks. The pirates carried small round shields that were easy to maneuver in a tight space, but they covered little of the body. Two of _Wavedancer_'s seven arrows found a mark, neither in vital places, but the two pirates that had been struck staggered back, crying out.

The pirates had more archers, and a rain of some fifteen arrows fell among Gale's men and the sailors. One of the archers went down, and four of the men sustained non-vital injuries. But before the pirates could re-gather and send another volley, Darian roared out two more rapid orders. "Grappling hooks! Long spears up!"

A whirring sound filled the air as fifteen men whirled grappling hooks above their heads then skillfully released them so that they flew toward the pirate ship. They tangled in the ship's rigging, and three latched into the railing of the stern deck stairs. Some of the pirates hacked desperately at the ropes, but some of them reciprocated with grappling hooks of their own. However, as ten or so pirates swung over on their ropes, Darian's second order was ringing through the air. The pirates found themselves swinging at a line of spears, and unable to stop themselves they crashed into the deadly wall.

All fifteen of the _Wavedancer_'s attackers had made it successfully to the pirate ship's deck and were now fighting in hand-to-hand combat with the pirates. As the ropes swung back toward _Wavedancer_, more men leaned out to catch them and began following their companions. Gale was almost jumping up and down in his eagerness to join his companions. He saw Andern seize one of the ropes and swing down to the pirate's deck, his sword clinched between his teeth. As soon as his feet touched wood, he began to attack the pirates with a ferocity that startled Gale.

"Your Majesty!"

Gale turned abruptly to find Marris at his side with two of the ropes held in his fists. He handed one to Gale. "Are you coming, Your Majesty?"

Gale seized the rope. "Try to stop me, Marris!"

The two men jumped onto the railing, balancing precariously as the ships rocked. For one moment, Gale's heart quailed at the sight of the dark ravine between the two ships with gurgling water foaming at its bottom. But he had little time to think as _Wavedancer_ rocked forward again, giving them a clear swing to the pirate's deck. As one, they thrust their feet against the railing and hurtled through the air. Gale felt the sensation of air laced with sea foam slapping his face, then the deck rushed up to meet him. He stumbled awkwardly as his feet came into contact with the rocking deck, but steadied himself just in time to parry the blow of a fair-skinned pirate with a scimitar. Beside him, Marris swung his blade at a Calormene corsair who was trying to hack at one of the grappling ropes.

A strange and loud noise cut through the clamor of battle, causing more than a few to turn and look at _Wavedancer_. A yellow and black shape hurtled through the air, a muffled howling of terror and excitement coming from its jaws. Darkspot had clamped her powerful teeth into one of the ropes and was clinging to it with all four feet. Her tail streamed straight out behind her and her eyes were shut as she soared across the water and over the railing. However, as soon as she struck the deck, a different creature emerged. Her feline grace recovered, she leapt snarling at the nearest pirate who was gaping at her stunned, and he went down with a scream.

The sounds of yelling, screaming, clashing, and thudding surrounded Gale. He had a minor wound on his forearm where a blade had nicked him, and Marris was bleeding from a similar injury on his shoulder. Afterwards, Gale could remember little of what actually happened between the time he landed on the deck and the end of the fight, and he was fairly sure he didn't want to. The pirates fought like madmen, but as Andern had said, _Wavedancer_'s crew was larger and better armed, and the pirates weren't used to fighting sea battles, or any true battles at all. Their skills lay in raiding small villages and carrying away unarmed people, not fighting a crew of determined, angry sailors and grim-faced soldiers. The battle grew less and less hot, and within fifteen minutes there were only small pockets of pirates still fighting.

Gale leaned against the stern deck stairs, examining his wounded arm. The cut was several inches long, but shallow, and already the bleeding had stopped. He glanced up at the few remaining pockets of fighting and took a step to join the closest one.

But he only took one step. He heard Marris shout behind him, and whirled around just in time to see a pirate, who'd been hidden in a compartment under the stairs where he'd been leaning, jump out at him, brandishing a plank of wood. The makeshift weapon struck the side of his head in a solid blow. For a moment, he stared at the man, his mind curiously blank of thoughts, then he swayed and black swept across his vision.

~o~o~

Waking was like swimming up through black water toward a flickering light somewhere in the distance. Mentally, Gale swept aside the darkness and struggled to shove his consciousness toward the light, and at last, the darkness receded, and Gale found himself blearily looking around at the indistinct shapes and murky figures around him. His hand felt heavy as he raised it to his throbbing head.

"What…what happened?" he stammered, his tongue feeling thick and leaden.

"Your Majesty was bashed over the head with a wooden plank," Marris's voice came from one of the dark figures. "It's a good thing it wasn't a Calormene scimitar. As it is, Andern says you should be fine, other than a headache."

Gale gingerly rubbed his head. The shapes in the room were still indistinct, but this was because the room was dark; only a little light was coming in through curtains hung over the small, round windows. "Where's Andern? Where am I?"

"You are in the captain's cabin in the pirate ship. We thought it best to lay you down here rather than trying to get you back to _Wavedancer_ while you were unconscious. The captain's about, seeing to things."

"And Darkspot?"

"Here, Gale, and much better off than you. Why do you humans insist on doing foolish things and constantly injuring yourselves? You should have taken Andern's advice and stayed in his cabin."

"Foolish things?" Gale answered hotly. "What Leopard was it swinging from ship to ship by a rope between her teeth? What if you had fallen? You can't swim, and I would have been in no position to rescue you."

"But you are the one who ended up unconscious nonetheless," Darkspot replied. "You have no idea how afraid and angry I was when I saw you sprawled on the deck with blood in your hair." However, she licked his hand affectionately, her rough tongue scraping gently across his skin. He patted her muzzle, knowing that they had each been worried about the other.

He sat up. "I'm guessing since I'm in the pirate captain's cabin and both of you are here, that we won."

Marris's bobbed his head stiffly. "Yes, indeed, Your Majesty. There were hardly fifteen of them left when you went down, and less than a minute after I took care of the fellow who bashed your head, the rest of them surrendered. Andern took the liberty to imprison them in _Wavedancer_'s hold while we waited for you, and I believe he was planning on burning the pirates' ship, though again, Your Majesty may do what he wishes with it."

His grogginess was dissipating and though his head still hurt, he felt better already. "And what about the pirates' prisoners? Was I right, Marris? Were there slaves?"

Marris's mouth became a thin, white line. "Your Majesty was correct. The pirates were slavers and had a cargo of twenty-three humans from Galma to sell south in Calormen. Don't worry, we've seen to them and have them on _Wavedancer_ to feed them and care for the injured."

Gale stood triumphantly. "Well, there you see. I _was_ right, and if we'd gone on sailing towards the Lone Islands, those poor Narnians would have been doomed for life. Now we've easily destroyed the pirates, rescued twenty-three prisoners, and now we can sail onward to help the Lone Islanders with little delay. Simple. Hah, and all of you thought I was mad."

"Simple isn't the word I'd use for this situation, and I'm still not convinced that you aren't mad."

Gale turned to see two figures standing in the doorway to the cabin, the light that spilled around them from the outside making it difficult to make out their features. From his tall frame and voice, Gale recognized Captain Andern, but the smaller, slimmer person at his side was unknown to him. Gale, however, ignored Andern's companion for the moment, and turned his hard blue eyes on the captain. "Excuse me, Captain, but it seems to me that we've won, and I can deal with a slight headache for the time being. You don't appear to be injured, so what have you to complain about now?"

He felt Darkspot nuzzle his hand and take in a breath as if to speak, but Andern beat her to it. The captain's voice was quiet, but rigid. "Your Majesty, I would not complain for myself. But perhaps you don't know, we have twelve men who have suffered from your decision. We lost eight, six of my own sailors and two of your guard, and the other four are all in great pain from injuries and will be of no further use this voyage. In addition, Your Majesty's own life was seriously endangered, and I can only say that the Lion must be watching over you. Most of our men have sustained minor injuries similar to your own, including myself. We are lucky to be in such good shape considering the vast risk Your Majesty forced us to take.

"And," he continued, jabbing a finger into Gale's chest, "and now we have ten prisoners in our hold that we must deal with, unless you plan on using them as dragon-bait, which is perhaps not the worst idea. Little delay? We have lost half a day's journey already, and we will lose a good deal more than that. What of the ship? We can hardly tow her along. We must burn her and her filthy slavers' equipment, and that will take another hour's preparation at least. And have you given no thought at all to the twenty-three extra people we now have on board? We can't bring them along with us, or our food will run out long before we arrive. We will have to take them back north twelve leagues to Galma, then return to our original course, which all in all, will amount to at least a day's hindrance, if not more."

"I am sorry, Captain, that we have caused you this inconvenience," said Andern's companion. Gale started in surprise. The voice was low and quiet, but dignified and feminine. The light was still poor, but Gale made out the features of a young woman with dark, unruly hair who was clad in ragged, dirty garments when he looked closer.

Andern withdrew his accusing finger from Gale's chest and made a slight bow in the woman's direction. "No, it isn't your doing. I apologize if I seem to have laid the blame upon you and your companions, Shayna. The blame is being put where it belongs, on this obstinate and blind king's head."

Gale took this advantage to get back on top of the argument. He didn't like the way Andern had scolded him like a disorderly and ignorant child in front of Darkspot, his own high commander, and this stranger. His anger was mounting again, and he didn't understand the unreasoning vehemence he sensed in Andern. They had won, hadn't they? They had rescued the prisoners, hadn't they? Yes, they had lost men, and he was sorry for the loss, but they had given their lives for a good cause and they had known it was a good cause. It was his delay, not Andern's.

"Look here," he said, pulling the captain back around to face him by the sleeve. "I'm sorry about the men we lost, and I'll personally see that their families are given recompense and that their names are put in places of honor. But I am a king, and therefore, I must decide when the gain is greater than the lost. We have lost eight and saved the lives of twenty-three. The blame, if you insist on calling it that, belongs on no heads but the pirates'. I should be receiving thanks, not scorn, and even if I deserved scorn, Captain, it isn't your place to lay it on me. You are forgetting your role on this ship, and you are forgetting mine. I am no invalid, so if you will step aside, I'll go and see about what's to be done with our prisoners, ship, and new passengers, if you think it's too much trouble for you to manage. I'm beginning to think you're the one who's mad, Andern. What is it that I've done that is so terrible, besides saving my people, including, as I guess, this young woman? Tell me, Andern!"

Andern's dark eyes glared at Gale for a moment, then he turned his back and strode toward the cabin door. "Come with me, Your Majesty. You are right; there are many things to be done, and we must do them swiftly. Afterwards, I will speak to you alone in my cabin."

Rubbing his still throbbing head and frowning, Gale followed the captain onto the deck of the newly captured pirate ship.


	10. Andern's Tale

Chapter 9: Andern's Tale

The light had already begun to dim in the east when Gale emerged from the cabin, followed by Marris, Darkspot, and the young woman whom Andern had called Shayna. It was a disheveled sight that met his eyes as he swept his gaze across the bobbing decks of the two ships that rested side by side. Grappling ropes were still tangled in the rigging and railing of both vessels, broken planks from the railings were scattered across the decks, arrows were stuck in the wood, and men, many with bandages, were scurrying like ants about their various tasks. Gale turned his gaze away from the red stains that some of the men were washing off the dark wood.

The scrape on his arm throbbed underneath its bandage, and even the dim light that was present was enough to make him squint with the pain that the rays shot through his head. But he observed some of the nearby men with the keen eye of a leader; they were tired, many as Andern had said, bore injuries similar to his own, but they weren't disheartened. In fact, from _Wavedancer_, he could hear the strains of a chantey that the sailors were singing as they worked, and when the men on the pirate deck saw him standing there, they raised a cheer.

Gale raised a hand in acknowledgement and to show them he was alive and well. Aware of what he had put these men through this day, he felt it was his duty to say some words, even though he didn't feel like it. With Marris at his side, he climbed the stairs to the stern deck above the captain's cabin and steadied himself with a hand on the wheel, as he looked down over the two decks at the forty or so uplifted faces waiting to hear what he would say. He took a breath that was thick with salty wind.

"My friends, thank you all. I know that when you began this journey, you didn't expect anything like this and that I asked much of you, but I would not have asked if I had any fear that you would fail me. Yes, we have lost companions this day, we have been injured, we are tired from the fight, and there is still much to do. But, friends, you all fought well and hard, and have saved the lives of twenty-three of your countrymen as well as defeating cruel men who bought their bread with the flesh of others. You have accomplished much, fought like Narnian men, and made me proud to stand here as your king. Thank you."

A ripple of acknowledgement ran through the sailors and soldiers, followed by another cheer, then they turned back to their work as they realized that the king had said his piece.

Gale, Marris, Andern, Darian, and Darkspot returned to _Wavedancer_ then to discuss what was to be done with the ship, the captives, and the former prisoners. Gale leaned on the railing, looking down at the pirate ship. He had little maritime knowledge, but he could see that the pirate ship was a fine craft; the railing was embellished, the dark wood looked polished, and there was a sleekness to her that made Gale suspect she could sail quickly with a good wind behind her.

Andern seemed read Gale's thoughts. "A beautiful ship, isn't she?" he said, coming to stand beside Gale. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't want to see her destroyed either, but we can't tow her to any port, not without a good deal more loss of time."

"We could set her adrift," Gale suggested.

Andern shook his head. "Except for the occasional vessel like ourselves passing through, it's only pirates that sail these waters. She would be reclaimed by another pirate crew, and I detest the thought of a beautiful ship like that one falling back into filthy slave trader hands. Most likely, they stole her in the first place. I recommend we torch her, Your Majesty. It's the only sensible thing to do."

Gale had argued with the captain enough that day, so he felt no desire to do so any more. It seemed a pity to destroy such a fine piece of craftsmanship, but he knew Andern was right. "Tell the sailors to burn her then, as soon as we've saved everything off her that can be of use to us," he said.

Andern gave Darian a dismissing nod, and the first mate left them to convey the king's order to the crew. "We've already brought all the weapons and food we could find to _Wavedancer_," Andern said. "She'll be ready to burn in an hour. What of our captives, Your Majesty?"

Gale gnawed his lip, pondering the question. He'd never had to deal with captives before, and quite frankly, he wasn't completely sure what the protocol was in such a situation. Executing them might be just, but he didn't feel right giving that order; after having spared them in the battle, it seemed wrong to turn right around and kill them after he'd already shown them mercy.

"Who's in charge in the Seven Islands?" he asked pensively.

"After Your Majesty, I believe there is the governor of Galma," Andern replied. "I haven't been to Galma in many years though, so I don't know who the governor may be at this time or of what disposition he may be."

Gale's train of thought had led him onward as Andern spoke. "That woman," he said, "that woman who came in with you to the cabin, who is she? Would she know?"

There was a moment of silence as Andern considered the questions, then he said, "After the battle, after we'd seen you situated in the cabin, I and a few of my men went below to find the captives. Of course, most of them were terrified from hearing the fighting and having no idea what was going on, and they were huddled on one side of the ship, mostly women and a few children, opposite the door where we entered. But as I went in, this woman tried to attack me from behind; she'd been hiding by the wall next to the door, I guess. She'd evidently encouraged some of the braver captives to attack whomever came through the door, for she shouted and several more of them dashed at us from the sides. There was a bit of a struggle, but the captives had no real weapons, and we soon convinced them that we weren't there to hurt them.

"I haven't spoken at any length with her, but it is evident to me that the others look to her for guidance, and she has a tough enough spirit for the job." Andern rubbed a place on his shoulder distractedly. "She also has a tough fist. She said her name was Shayna but no more concerning herself. She asked who she was indebted to for this rescue and asked to see you when I told her the King of Narnia was her liberator."

Gale nodded. "I would like to talk to her later on, see if I can find out the current situation in the Seven Isles. However, for the time being, I think we should set sail for Galma, after your men have finished burning the ship. By tomorrow morning we'll be there, and there we can return the captives to their homes, and I'll talk to the governor. I think we should hand over the pirates to him – it was his people that were directly affected by the pirates, and therefore, it should be his right to decide their fate. That takes both the pirates and the captives off our hands, and we'll be free to continue our journey by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. What do you say, Captain?"

The vehement light that Gale had seen in Andern's eyes ever since he first suggested fighting the pirates was dimmed and replaced with a brooding expression that Gale couldn't read. There was a pause during which Gale wasn't sure Andern had even heard his words, but then the captain nodded. "It shall be done as you say, Your Majesty." He bowed his head to Gale, then strode away purposefully.

Marris excused himself, saying he needed to gauge losses and injuries among his soldiers, and Gale was left on the deck with only Darkspot as company. He pulled at the bandage on his arm, trying to make it more comfortable and resist the urge to scratch at the itching pain at the same time, and sighed. "So, that's a battle," he said for want of anything better to say.

Darkspot opened her mouth wide, revealing her fearsome canines and curled, pink tongue in a yawn. "Hardly a battle. I'd call it more of a skirmish really. It couldn't have lasted more than twenty minutes."

Gale flicked her ear, causing her to growl. "And what do you know of battles? That was your first fight, just the same as me."

The rough, coughing sound that was her cat's laugh emanated from Darkspot's throat. "Any Leopard learns of fighting at an early age, unlike you soft-skinned humans. Bringing down a deer with no more than your own teeth and claws is no laughing matter."

"I suppose," Gale relented. "But I don't think my real battle today was with pirates. What do you make of Andern? I can understand his annoyance, maybe even anger, but he was furious. What do you suppose he's hiding?"

"That I won't presume to guess," Darkspot replied. "But if I remember correctly, he promised you a story after everything was seen to. I guess your questions will be answered then and not before."

She licked her paw, then rose from her haunches, flicking her tail. "As for me, I am going to find a quiet place to curl up and take a nap. Fighting is no strenuous task for a Leopard, but swinging across ships and cruel waves with nothing but a rope between your teeth is tiring."

Gale let a smile cross his lips as he watched the black-spotted tail vanish below the deck and shook his head.

~o~o~

"Ale, Your Majesty?"

Gale took the proffered goblet and took a sip from the golden liquid that it contained. The light of the small lanterns about the captain's cabin cast the room in a mysterious glow, and if Gale tipped his head to the side to look out the round windows lining the room, he could still see the receding blaze of the inferno that had once been the pirates' ship that lit the night sky in the distance. The smell of the alcohol was mingled with that of the roast chicken and bread from supper, a prize from the pirates' store, and Gale felt comfortably warm and full, in addition to being satisfied with what he saw as a fine day's work.

Andern still stood, his own goblet unheeded in his hand, leaning slightly against the rocking wall and looking at the blackness outside the window. He was silent.

"What is this about, Andern?" Gale asked, taking another sip.

The sound of Gale'e voice seemed to break Andern's reverie, and he came to sit across from Gale, and the lanterns mingled gold with his dark hair. His eyes flickered.

"I am sorry for my behavior, Your Majesty," he said evenly. "I do not take back all my words, for I still believe you made a reckless and unwise decision, but it was not done without courage, and sometimes it seems that wisdom and courage don't easily mix." A rye smile touched his face. "But whether or not your choice was one of madness, we have emerged on the far side of it with more gained than lost. But in any case, whether we had won or lost, it was not my place to chastise my king."

Gale accepted the apology with a nod of his head, but remained silent, curious of what was to come next. Andern swirled his cup slowly, causing the ale to slosh mesmerizing around the edge, glittering like gold in the fire light. Reluctance showed on his face, but then he began softly to speak.

"The time I speak of was probably before Your Majesty was even born. I myself was only in my teens, and I was my father's apprentice, a ship's boy upon my father's vessel, _The Sea Eagle_. As I am now, so my father was before me: a merchant sailor captain of Narnia under your father, King Gareth. We frequented the coastline of Narnia, sometimes as far south as Archenland and even Calormen, and we sailed between the Seven Isles, making port at Terebinthia, where I was raised and where my mother and my sister would greet us when we returned after a long voyage.

"It was on one such return journey from delivering spices of the Seven Isles to Archenland that we were blown off course by a storm that came out of the east. For three days, we couldn't get our bearings, but my father was a skilled sailor and when the storm calmed, my father discovered we had blown many leagues west of our original course. We were all tired from the storm, and it took us an extra four days to reach Terebinthia.

"It had been months since I looked on my home, and I had bought my sister a trinket from Archenland, jewelry that I knew she would cherish. I had never been gone so long from my home before, and I was eager to have my feet on firm ground again, and I suspect my father felt much the same. But upon pulling into the port of the small seaside village where my family lived, a terrible sight met my eyes. The village was smoking, the houses burnt and torn, and when we reached the shore, we saw that the only humans about were the dead men strewn along the beach.

"'Pirates,' I remember the men whispering to each other and my father just stood there, staring.

"Suddenly, he rushed to our house, I following, and I remember him tearing at the burnt wood and stumbling through the ashes until his clothes were grey. He was screaming my mother's name, and all around me, I could hear the other sailors calling in similar fashion for their wives, sisters, and friends. But we could not find them, and we knew then that they had been taken as slaves by the pirates. The only few that had been spared that fate were the men who had tried to fight and were now floating in the incoming tide.

"My father was a brave and prudent man, rarely given to wild passions. I had never seen him as he was that day. He cursed the storm, saying that if they had not been blown off course, he and his men would have been there and could have saved the village. He worked himself into a terrible wrath of grief that bereaved him of all his judgment. He determined to go after the pirates, who had not been gone more than two days, judging by the still smoldering houses. _The Sea Eagle's_ crew were likewise driven out of their senses with anger and sadness, and I wanted nothing more than to kill the men who had slain my villagemen and taken my family. So we pursued the pirates."

Andern was silent for a minute perhaps as he stared blankly into the ale. Gale saw his hand stray to his chest and he saw him slip something from underneath his shirt which he held close in his hand, turning it over and over. When he continued, his voice seemed emotionless, an odd change from the passions Gale had seen in him over the last twenty-four hours.

"Our _Sea Eagle_ was a good ship, fast and strong, and little damage had been done her in the storm. We caught up with the pirates in less than a week, and my father ordered an immediate attack. We pulled up alongside the pirates' vessel, and the fight that followed was not so unlike the fight you witnessed today. Except that it was the pirates who massacred us. We were far outnumbered, as we should have guessed from the wreckage of our village, and our men were weary and in no condition to fight. They cut my father down with scimitars. Those they could, they took captive, and I was among them. I learned that my mother had died on board the past day from an injury she had received while trying to protect my sister, and I never saw my sister ever again, for we captives from _The Sea Eagle_ were kept in a different compartment from the rest. They sold us all in Calormen the next month, and I remained there three years until I escaped by great fortune and returned to Narnia, but I can never forget the sight of the pirates cutting down the crew, laughing and jeering, and my father's anger turned to shock when they stabbed him through the heart."

The cup thudded as Andern set it down suddenly on the table. "And now you know, Your Majesty."

Gale said nothing for a very long time, and the two men silently looked out the windows. At last, when the silence grew too oppressive, Gale murmured, "I am sorry, Andern."

Andern wiped a heavy hand across his brow and sighed. "I feared today that I would watch my greatest nightmare played out again before my eyes. It has always been my dread, every time I set sail. But Your Majesty is braver than myself and proved my fears wrong. I am glad we have, at least in some little measure, avenged my parents' deaths and my sister's slavery, for I have lived in too much fear to do so for too many years."

Gale felt a shudder pass through him at the thought of the danger he had unknowingly placed himself and all those under him in. "It is I who should be ashamed. Your fear was reasonable, and I acted like a fool."

For the first time, something like a relenting smile touched Andern's face. "It seems we have both made mistakes that we're not proud of, Your Majesty, and in this circumstance, we have both perhaps not acted as honorably as we might have." He held his hand out to Gale. "We sail on, the captives are free, and the pirates shall meet their just fate. Let us put our arguments behind us as well."

Gale clasped his hand. "A good idea, Captain."

As he released his hand, Gale noticed the object that Andern had been holding, a delicate golden star with a jewel at the center around his neck on a chain. Andern noticed Gale's gaze and lifted the medallion from his breast. "This was the necklace I was going to give to my sister, Marsa, that day we returned. I hid it from the slavers and my Calormene master, but from the day I escaped, I have always worn it in her memory, and in hope that someday she too will be free."

"I would very much like to hear how you managed to escape Calormen," Gale said, "but that is probably a tale for another day."

"It is," Andern replied, "and Your Majesty has had a rough day. I suggest you get the best night's sleep that you are able."

Gale finished his drink with one last swig, then went to the cabin door with Andern following. When he opened the door, the cold night sea wind blew into his face, tossing his yellow hair back and filling his nostrils with a briny smell. Still on the horizon, a glow hung over the black line between sea and sky.

Gale turned and put a hand on Andern's shoulder. "Sleep well, Captain. Thank you."

Wrapping his cloak close around his shoulders to ward off the cold wind, Gale made his way across the rolling deck. Except for the incessant creaks, groans, and gurgles of the ship and the sea, all was silent now. He paused for a second with his hand on the door to his own cabin, thinking over the day's events and Andern's tale, not sure what he should take from the multitude of feelings that rose in his heart. Finally, his throbbing head was what won out, and he slipped inside to the relative warmth of his cabin and bunk, where he took Andern's advice and slept deeply.


	11. Stubborn Men

Chapter 10: Stubborn Men and Even More Stubborn Women

During the night, the wind had changed. The steady breeze that had been blowing east had shifted to a south easterly direction, and as _Wavedancer_ made for the northern islands, the wind fought against her progress. Between tacking and rowing, the ship sluggishly made its way towards the Seven Isles, which at sunrise could be seen only as distant, low-lying smudges on the horizon.

At _Wavedancer's_ prow, Gale leaned with his arms folded on the railing and his chin resting on his crossed limbs, staring at the small waves that formed where the ship met the water. Underneath the shimmering surface, two grey-green shapes danced back and forth, weaving between water and wood, seeming sometimes about to be struck, but then they dodged just in time to escape the advancing ship. Gale watched as one of the angular dolphin fins rose above the surface and vanished again in a graceful movement.

Despite what he had said concerning delays the previous day, he was now regretting this detour and was more than ready to be back to his original mission. He didn't regret the lives he'd saved, but each hour that dragged past made him more antsy. He'd expected to arrive at Galma early that morning, but as ten o' clock neared, the islands were still a good two leagues away. Gale heaved a sigh into his sleeve.

"Your Majesty?"

The voice startled him from his aggravated musings, causing him to straighten and turn around. For a moment he didn't recognize the person before him, but then he realized it was the woman, Shayna. She was dressed in man's clothing, somewhat too large for her and ill-fitting, but no doubt an improvement from the ragged dress she'd been wearing. Her face had been washed as best as might be and some attempt made to tame the wild, dark mane surrounding it, but she still appeared too pale and unkempt for a normal civilian.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I, Your Majesty?"

Gale inclined his head. "Not at all. In fact, I'd be glad of a distraction from my brooding, and I wanted to speak to you, as well. Andern tells me you go by the name Shayna, and that you are counted as the leader among your companions."

The sea wind tugged Shayna's hair, and she brushed at the strands as they slapped across her face. Her locks weren't quite black, but they were a deep brown that possessed a glossy sheen where the sun shone on them.

"My name is Shayna, yes, but I'm no leader. I was less willing than some of the others to give into despair when we were captured, but I'm not their better. If I had been a true leader, we would not have been taken so easily by pirates. Which brings me to my reason for speaking to you. I believe I and my companions owe you thanks for our rescue. If so, then, thank you, Your Majesty."

"It was my honor," Gale replied.

Shayna hesitated, seemingly unsure of whether or not the conversation was over, but before she could turn, Gale gestured to the space beside him. "Please, come join me. I would be glad of your company."

Again she hesitated, a slight frown of surprise on her face, but she did as he bid and came to stand at the railing beside him as he turned back around to face the north. For a while, he didn't speak, but then he said, "So you are from Galma?"

"Yes," Shayna replied simply.

Gale waited a few seconds. "And?"

Shayna turned to look at him, her dark eyes serious. "And, Your Majesty? I answered your only question, did I not?"

Gale frowned. "Do they not have conversation starters in Galma?"

He couldn't tell from Shayna's eyes whether she was playing with him or whether she was serious. Her face remained unmoved as she replied, "Of course, Your Majesty." There was a long pause, then she said, "I dislike it when men try to hint and dance around what they actually mean. You don't do it well. What information do you want from me?"

Gale could only stare at her in slack-jawed shock for a few seconds. No one had ever spoken to him in such a pert manner before, certainly not some raggedy girl. He spluttered slightly, in part too bemused to be completely angry. "Now see here," he said, "a moment ago you were thanking me. I was merely trying to start up a pleasant conversation, and I don't see any reason for your impudence. By the Lion, I _am_ your King."

Shayna raised an eyebrow and pressed her lips tightly together so they formed a thin, red line as he spoke. When he'd finished, she gazed at him for a second then replied, "But I'm right, aren't I, Your Majesty? You want information from me, don't you? So why don't you just ask me your questions?"

Gale raised his eyes heavenward briefly and muttered, "The one time I actually attempt to be polite…" He decided to abandon the pursuit, partially because he knew Shayna was right though. "All right then," he said in a tight voice, "do you have family? What is your story? How were you captured?"

Shayna leaned her back against the rail. "There are few large villages on any of the Seven Isles, and most of the folk of my village are fishermen, weavers, and such, not fighters. It is so with most of our villages, making us good targets for the slavers, and although there are some of us that would encourage the learning of fighting as well as the keeping of a garrison in each village, most of the country folk refuse to plan further than what they'll eat for supper that night. My father was a nobleman of Galma, the cousin of the governor, but he and my mother died when I was young from illness. I was raised by my nurse and tutoress, and she is the only person who I now call family.

"How was I captured? It's a short enough tale. It was market day in Redfirth where the governor lives, and many had gone to sell their wares, including my tutoress. I guess that the slavers knew it was our market day, and as soon as the majority of the men had left for Redfirth, they bore down on us with their ship, came ashore, and attacked. When they came to my house, I fought the best I could, but there were too many, and one of them struck me over the head. When I woke, I was in the pirate hold, bound, and surrounded by my fellow prisoners. I wasn't tightly bound and managed to slip my hands from the knots and free some of those around me whom I convinced to hide about the door to the hold, so that the next time the pirates entered we might catch them by surprise. It was difficult to tell time down there in the dark, but I don't think much more than fourteen or fifteen hours had passed since we were captured, for they hadn't yet brought us more food or drink. We heard the fighting, but were unsure of its meaning, so I convinced my companions to stick to our plan. However, it was your captain and his men who entered the hold next, not the pirates. And Your Majesty is aware of the rest of the story."

Nothing about the story surprised Gale; the parts of it that Andern hadn't told him, he'd already surmised for himself. He nodded. "I'm glad we crossed paths with the pirates and were able to free you," he said. "But it grieves me to think of all the captives who aren't so lucky."

A fierce light lit Shayna's eyes. "I would have fought to the death before I allowed them to sell me."

Gale observed that Shayna's frame was sturdy, if rather small, and that her arms looked strong. That, coupled with the belligerence of her words and eyes, made him suspect she was telling the truth. He noticed that she was observing him as well, but he couldn't read her face. Her eyes met his.

"And what about you? Why is Narnia's king sailing the seas? Surely not to simply fight pirates."

Gale tapped his fingers on the rail. "I'm dragon hunting."

Shayna straightened and seemed to take some interest. "That sounds like quite a mission. And how do you come to be dragon hunting?"

Briefly, Gale told her his story, of Reyin's message, and his subsequent vow to free the Lone Islands from the monster. Shayna listened without interrupting, but the light in her eyes never faded. When he'd finished, she said quietly, "I've never seen a dragon before. You must be brave to face such a monster, but then, I've heard rumors that this isn't your first time. There are stories told that Your Majesty got that scar in a fight with a wyvern."

Gale automatically touched his cheek, feeling the raised line of the scar underneath the stubble of his beard. "They tell the same tale in Narnia. I'm not afraid to do my duty. I will face the dragon, and, Aslan willing, I will kill it and survive to claim the Lone Islands as part of the kingdom of Narnia. It would be a blow to my honor if I didn't do this deed."

"And who will fight with you, Your Majesty?"

Gale frowned. "This is my task, and mine alone. I know Marris, Andern, and most of the others will offer their help when the time comes, but I will have to refuse. I accepted this mission, and I cannot allow any other man to endanger his life until I have made the attempt, and either won or died trying."

Shayna just stared hard at him for a few seconds. "I hope you know how idiotic you just sounded, Your Majesty," she said finally, and the last two words had a definitely sarcastic ring to them.

Gale was willing to let her pertness at the start of their conversation pass, but this touched ground that was too close for comfort, mostly because he'd heard it before, including from his own mind. It was one thing for Starhorn or Marris to accuse him of foolishness, but he decided Shayna was pushing her luck too far, and his fiery heart was kindled. Before he could consider his actions, he seized her forearm in a tight grip and was gritting out, "There are some kings who would have their subjects killed for less than that insult. You might think you are brave for trying to fight the pirates, but you said yourself that you are no leader. What does a girl know about policies, and fighting, and honor? You, you who let yourself and your friends be captured, what place do you have to teach me about such things? In the future, you will remember who it is you are speaking to and you will keep in your rightful place, is that clear?"

Her eyes were like fragments of ice. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said, "you've made yourself clear."

"Good," he said, releasing her arm as she tugged it away. She glared at him, tossing her hair back with one hand before stalking away and disappearing from his sight. He snorted, his bad mood, which had briefly been alleviated, returned in full. "Some gratitude for saving her life," he muttered darkly. "I should have left her tied up in the pirate hold. And I wonder why I don't bother getting to know any young women."

He lifted his gaze and was distracted from his brooding. The islands were now in clear view, drawing visibly closer with each passing minute. A town rested on the hilly shore of the nearest island, the stones of the buildings appearing dusky red in the sunlight, and he could make out individual people moving on the streets. Redfirth. His argument with Shayna momentarily forgotten, he went down to find Andern.

~o~o~

There were armed men waiting at the beach when the three shiploads from _Wavedancer_ arrived from the ship moored offshore. They made no threatening motions however, as Gale, Captain Andern, and Marris, along with the twenty-three former captives stepped out of the longboats, and Gale surmised that they'd seen the flag of Narnia flying from _Wavedancer's_ mast and were there as an escort. His eyes swept over the ten soldiers and fixed on the one he deemed to be the captain: a tall, fair-haired man wearing a cloak.

"We wish to speak to the governor of Galma," Gale said, addressing the man. "My name is King Gale of Narnia."

The captain bowed. "Your Majesty, welcome to Galma. Please follow us."

They followed the man and his flanking soldiers up toward the largest of the red-stone buildings which overlooked the market square where there were still pavilions and small tents set up from the recent market day. Passing through the iron gates of the governor's fort, they found themselves in a small courtyard where they were bid to wait while the captain sent his soldiers to inform the governor of their arrival. A few minutes passed, and then they continued on into the main hall of the keep.

The governor of Galma was a man in perhaps his early fifties, grey-haired already, with a square, stern face. He greeted Gale courteously and asked why he had the honor of the Narnian king's visit.

Gale indicated the twenty-three people behind him. "Governor, about two days ago, one of your villages was attacked by pirates. We were fortunate enough to cross paths with these slavers, and most of them, along with their ship, have been destroyed. We hold the remaining ten prisoners within our ship, and we return to you the twenty-three captives that were taken to be sold as slaves in the south."

The governor's eyes widened a little as he observed the people. "Yes, news was brought to me of this tragedy, but we had no ships large or fast enough to give chase. Those who were not taken had given them up as lost. I and my people are in your debt, Your Majesty, for your valiant rescue."

"We ask only one thing of you in recompense," Gale answered. "We are on a mission that has already been delayed more than a day by this rescue and we can't afford any more of a delay. Therefore, we ask that you deal with the pirates as you see fit. I ask only that you don't kill them, for I have already spared their lives and feel it would be wrong to now take their lives. I believe, however, you might find them useful in rebuilding any houses they destroyed in their attack. I also would like to discuss the idea of building a fort in each of your sea villages and training soldiers to protect the villages from future attacks, and you might find them useful in that pursuit as well."

Noon had passed by the time the longboats had fetched the ten miserable pirates from _Wavedancer's _hold where they'd been tied among the cargo since the previous afternoon. "Come on, you sorry lot," first mate Darian could be heard bellowing at them as the longboat scraped across the sandy beach, "be thankful the king and governor have seen fit to spare your lives. Be thankful you have a chance to be of some use finally; it's more than you would have received from me."

Surrounded by Galman soldiers, the wretched slavers were dragged off to be shown their new duties.

The governor invited Gale and his men to dine with him, and Gale accepted the invitation, although a little reluctantly due to the continued delay. But as they ate, he outlined for the governor his plans concerning the protection of the villages, which he'd been considering ever since Shayna had mentioned it. One by one, the former captives came to thank him, then left for their village, most of them reunited with an overjoyed spouse, brother, or father who had been at the market on that fateful day. At last, all but Shayna had said their farewells to him, but he didn't think overlong on the fact, assuming that the woman was probably still angry at him.

The governor insisted on providing them with supplies, although the pirates' store had refilled their pantry, and Andern, Marris, and most of the sailors returned to _Wavedancer_ in two of the longboats accompanied with several crates of supplies. Gale and four sailors remained by the final longboat, saying good-bye to the governor.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Gale said. "We'll stop by on our return voyage to see how the forts are coming along."

"I don't know why we didn't think of such a plan before," the governor answered. "The Lion be with you on your mission, and I hope you return soon and safely."

The governor turned and went back up towards his fortress with his soldiers marching on either side, and the four sailors situated themselves in the longboat, fixing the oars into place. Gale was about to step into the boat, when he was halted by a shout. "Wait for me!"

Gale straightened, one leg in the boat, the other planted on the sandy shore, and looked up. Shayna was hurrying up to him, dressed in a plain, brown smock, leggings, and boots, and with a bundle over her shoulder. Following was a tall, older, dark-haired woman with a serious face.

Gale frowned. "What are you doing here? Why haven't you returned to your village?"

He ducked barely in time as Shayna flung her bundle. It flew over his head and landed with a thud in the bottom of the longboat, causing the vessel to rock. Gale swayed awkwardly and almost lost his balance. "I'm coming with you," Shayna stated, facing him.

Gale took his leg out of the boat before further rocking caused him to fall into the shallow water. He folded his arms. "I don't think that's your decision to make."

Shayna tipped her head back, jutting her sharp chin out. "I know how to fight, I'm bold, and I'm interested in your mission, even if I don't care for you. I want to see this dragon of yours, and I already have my sea legs. I won't simply be a hungry mouth; I can work aboard the ship, and you may find me useful at the journey's end, if you aren't to stubborn to accept my help."

Gale was taken aback. "No, of course not," he spluttered. "Even if I wanted extra companions, I wouldn't just pick up anyone who wanted to come, certainly not a former pirates' captive. This isn't a sight-seeing jaunt, and it's certainly not a job for girls. Go back to your town."

"Not a job for girls," Shayna retorted. "What about Darkspot then? From what I've seen and heard, you could use one or two female minds about your ship."

Gale frowned, about to continue, but Shayna cut him short. "And what about you, Your Majesty? Weren't you told that _you_ shouldn't go on this mission, that it was too dangerous for you, but you insisted and came from pure stubbornness? Why do I have a lesser right than you, for it's my countrymen – fellow Narnians – who are being attacked, just as they are your subjects. Believe me, Your Majesty, you may be stubborn, but I can be every bit as stubborn and more. If you don't believe me, then you don't know much about the ways of girls."

"She speaks the truth, Your Majesty," said the dark-haired woman, whom Gale guessed was Shayna's tutoress. "She has always been hard to convince when she has other plans, believe me. I have given her my blessings to go."

But Gale hardly heard. His mind was still going over Shayna's last speech. Guilt crept into his heart as he realized that Shayna was in the same position that he had been with Starhorn, and quite frankly, there was no more reason why he should have come than why Shayna should come. He couldn't find the loop-hole in Shayna's reasoning without undermining his own reasons for coming.

"Oh botheration!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Just get in."

He moved aside and Shayna hopped nimbly over the side of the longboat and sat in the prow, holding her bundle on her lap and looking smug. His face red, Gale got in and sat facing her in the stern, though he looked past her at the ship, refusing to make eye contact. As the boat moved away from the shore and Shayna waved good-bye to her tutoress, Gale's mind was angrily going over the encounter when he realized something. Someone had told Shayna about his fight with Starhorn and insistence on going when everyone had tried to make him stay. And as soon as he thought that, he knew exactly who had given him away.


	12. A Valuable Heart to Heart

Chapter 11: A Valuable Heart-to-Heart

Darkspot was curled innocently up in her bunk, her tail under her chin and her eyes closed, but Gale wasn't fooled. He dropped down on the mattress next to her and gave her a long, icy stare. Usually, he would have gently flicked her ears or even pulled her tail if she was purposefully ignoring him, but he was too annoyed now for such games. So instead he continued to level his freezing glare at her, knowing there was only so long that she could ignore him.

She lasted approximately five minutes. Her ears twitched automatically and a moment later she casually opened wide her powerful jaws in a yawn with her rough tongue curled at the tip between her teeth. At the same time, she stretched out her front paws, and the claws emerged from the large pads, scraping slightly over the mattress with a faint tearing sound. Her eyes opened, and for a second she stared ahead of her as if not seeing him, but then her dark, liquid eyes turned to his unforgiving blue gaze.

"Have we set sail again?" she asked before giving another unconcerned yawn.

"As a matter of fact, we have," Gale replied. "And we have some extra luggage, as I'm sure you're already well aware of."

"And so we should. We did the governor of Galma a favor by catching those pirates, and he owed us some new stores. I hope he included some fresh pork. That salted stuff from the mainland was getting a little tough for my tastes, and I don't want to return to Narnia like a half-starved kitten."

"Oh, it's still fresh," Gale said dryly. "Feel free to take a bite out of it whenever you want. Maybe that will put a respectful tongue in its mouth."

Darkspot regarded him silently a moment or two, trying to decide whether or not to keep up the pretense of ignorance. She decided against it.

"I presume then that you did not take kindly to Shayna's request."

"Kindly!" Gale exploded. "How was I supposed to take it kindly when a young upstart forces her way onto my ship, and without my permission? I should have Andern chuck her over the side for being a stowaway. From the way she treated me, you'd think _she_ was the King of Narnia, and I was nothing but an ill-mannered peasant."

There was an amused light in Darkspot's eyes, which only infuriated Gale further. "Force the way onto _your_ ship, Your Majesty? First of all, I thought it was Captain Andern's ship."

"It's a Narnian ship, and I'm the King of Narnia!"

"As you keep repeating. Second of all, may I say that there are times when you do seem rather like an ill-mannered peasant, and it is perhaps not so bad that someone has finally decided to let you know about it?"

~o~o~

"I think there are times when Peter and Ed could hear something like that," Eustace snickered. "Ill-mannered peasant – I'll have to remember that."

"What?" Jill asked, squinting at him. They were deep in the forest by this time and the day was growing late. The shadows spread around them, making it difficult to see in the gloom. Tirian and Poggin were several paces ahead, but even so close they seemed indistinct among the dusky trees.

"Peter and Ed," Eustace repeated. "They always put on airs and toss around bosh like 'I was king, so there' and that sort of rubbish. I suppose you've never had that sort of thing, not being their cousin, but I have to hear it all the time. It almost drove me batty the first time I was here, all the stuff about King Edmund, and Caspian calling him 'Your Majesty' all the time. Of course," he added a little ruefully, "most everything drove me batty back them. I might have been batty to begin with."

"You were pretty awful," Jill conceded.

"Still, it's not my fault I didn't get to go with them the first time. Then I might have been a king too, not just King Ed's cousin who no one remembers." There was more than a hint of resentment in Eustace's voice.

"Eustace!" Tirian stopped walking and turned around to stare at the children. Although his face was youthful, that didn't make it any less stern. "Have your adventures here taught you nothing? How can you speak ill of the four kings and queens of old, especially when you are their own kin? Do you fault Aslan for his choice?"

Poggin and Jewel stood aside, silently watching. Puzzle drooped his head, his long ears twitching and the ridiculous lion skin half falling off his neck. Eustace hung his head and shifted his feet awkwardly. After a second, he met Tirian's eyes. "No," he said slowly. "No, I don't." Then he laughed slightly. "I've made an ass of myself, haven't I?"

Jill reached out and squeezed his hand.

Tirian's eyes grew softer. "Better an ass than an arrogant man. Your part in Narnia has been different than that of your cousins, but do not make the mistake of believing it is less important or less worthy. Everyone cannot be a king or queen after all." He turned and continued walking, but after only a few paces, he turned back, a small smile touching his lips. "And Eustace, you may recall that when you came to my rescue, not only did I remember you from the tales told of King Rilian, but I said nothing about any 'cousin of King Ed'."

A grin broke over Eustace's face, but he said nothing. Jill hid her smile.

The small company walked on. Jewel didn't immediately continue his story, but allowed the two children to remain in their thoughts for several minutes. When he judged that they were ready once again to hear the tale, he began again before they could ask his pardon and beg him to resume.

~o~o~

Gale eyed the Leopard, scowling. "You've been encouraging her, haven't you? Was it you that put the idea of her coming along into her head, or did you just inform her all about the private bits of my life?"

Darkspot drew her tongue across the back of her paw, taking on an air of complete ease and nonchalance. "I might have told her a few things that whetted her appetite for adventure. And I might have slipped her a few ideas about how to convince you to allow her to come."

Gale sighed moodily. "Some friend you are."

Darkspot looked up sharply. "What do you have against Shayna? I have found nothing so dreadful about her when I have had the chance to speak to her. In fact, I found it rather refreshing to speak to a human who doesn't have a temper like a bundle of kindling in a forest fire. If you deigned to speak a word to her, perhaps you would discover the same thing."

"How am I supposed to put up with her impudence long enough to have a word with her?" Gale asked, spreading his arms wide. "She called me an idiot, me, the King of Narnia!"

Darkspot stared at him for a very long time, until he actually began to feel uncomfortable under the fierce feline eyes. When he was inwardly squirming, she dropped her gaze and went back to licking her paw. In between a lick, she replied, "As I said before, Gale, perhaps having someone to tell you when you act like an idiot is not the worst thing that could happen to you."

~o~o~

Later that evening, Darkspot went up on deck for a breath of fresh air. The rolling motion of the deck beneath her paws was still unnerving, but she no longer feared being swept into the sea by an unruly wave. As long as she kept her distance from the railing when she was alone, she was satisfied that she was safe.

The sun had just set, and the clouds were still pink and deep orange in the western horizon. The sea reflected back the colors, painting a vibrant landscape behind the gliding _Wavedancer_. Darkspot gracefully loped up the few steps onto the stern deck. Lights were on in the captain's cabin, and the smell of dinner still was wafting up from the kitchen. Darkspot licked her lips. There had been new meat for supper, from the governor of Galma's private store. True, it was hardly fresh venison from that day's hunt served in Cair Paravel splendor, but after the stringy, tough, salt-encrusted stuff that the sailors lived on, it had been very satisfying.

A lone figure leaned against the stern railing, gazing westward. Darkspot let her paws fall more heavily on the deck than she usually would to alert him of her presence. Marris turned and looked down as she glided up beside him. She bunched the muscles of her back legs together and sprang, letting her front paws come to rest on the top of the railing so that she was holding herself upright against the wood. Her tail twitched back and forth as she kept her balance.

"Good evening, Darkspot," Marris said graciously, and she purred deep in her chest in acknowledgement.

The man went back to looking down at an object held in his hands. He made no attempt to conceal it in his palm, so Darkspot glanced at it. It was an open locket, and inside it was a small painting of a golden-haired woman: his wife, Marina.

"That is beautifully done," Darkspot commented.

Marris smiled at her. "It was a wedding gift. She has an identical locket, with my painting inside. I commissioned Jareld to do the paintings."

Darkspot was impressed. Jareld was the best artist at Cair Paravel, renowned for his portraits. No wonder the small image was so life-like.

Marris closed the locket and slipped the chain around his neck. He leaned against the railing and gazed toward the fading sunset glow, his hair blowing across his face from the south. As he stared west, his face took on a look of melancholy. Darkspot observed his features keenly. Although a Talking Beast, she had been raised among humans ever since her parents had been killed while trying to protect their home and kitten from a wild bear. As a result, she had learned to read the expressions that humans so often wore to show their thoughts.

"You miss Marina," she said.

Marris rubbed the locket unconsciously with his thumb. "That I do," he answered. "It's only been half a year since our wedding. She didn't want me to leave, you know, tried to convince me to stay, but I have more duties than those of a husband. It would have been my dishonor to abandon my lord. If he falls – the Lion forbid it – it will be my duty to take his place and fight the dragon as best as I can. I could not leave my king's side, even if I wanted to." He was silent a few seconds, then he added, almost as a casual afterthought. "She's with child – Marina is."

Darkspot tilted her head sideways. "Why, I did not know. Congratulations."

Marris smiled and shrugged, almost as if embarrassed. "We've only known a few weeks, a few weeks before I set sail that is. I was sorry to leave her, now of all times, but she must understand. A high commander must be ready to follow his liege whenever he's needed. And I'll be back in plenty of time to be with her when she needs it the most."

Darkspot said nothing, but she was impressed by the quiet confidence in Marris's voice, as well as by his loyalty and devotion to Gale. She purred after a few seconds of silence, and the vibrating sound mingled pleasantly with the murmuring waves against the ship's sides. "You should tell Gale," she said at last.

Marris nodded. "I will, later. Right now, he has plenty of other things on his mind."

Darkspot sniffed. "Actually, less than you might think. He can be quite thick-headed at times, have you noticed?"

In spite of his respect and loyalty for Gale, Marris couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Oh, believe me, Darkspot, I've noticed. I've been his high commander for enough years to have been thoroughly inflicted with some of his worst moments of stubbornness."

The two of them chuckled, then Marris's face straightened as he realized that it was his king that he was making gentle fun of. "But what can a lowly commander of the King's army do about it?" he said with still a hint of amusement in his voice. "We'll have to hope that he grows out of it someday."

Darkspot's rough laughter rumbled in her chest. "Perhaps a lowly commander can't solve the problem, but maybe a Cat can."

Marris glanced sideways at her, a question flickering across his face, but Darkspot just let herself drop back to all fours on the deck, swishing her tail casually. "Good evening, Marris," she said as she turned away. "I think I shall retire for the night. My nap this afternoon was rather rudely interrupted and it has been a long day for a simple Talking Leopard."


	13. The Mermaid's Necklace

Chapter 12: The Mermaid's Necklace

Another week flowed past, or rather floated by at an irritatingly sedate pace. Gale liked the sea wind in his hair and the rolling motion of the ship, but now as they drew near to their destination, he was getting restless again. Up till now, the dragon had seemed like something in the distant future, hardly to be bothered about in the present, but Andern had informed him that if the wind held, they'd be making port at Narrowhaven on Doorn within the week. Now that he knew he'd soon be facing a dragon, he was slightly less confident than he'd been almost a month and many miles back in Cair Paravel. And being less confident irritated him.

There was also Shayna to deal with now. Something about her bothered him, though he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was. Whenever she was around, he felt distracted, a feeling he liked as little as lack of confidence. They hadn't really spoken since she insisted on coming aboard, and he was still miffed about the abrupt and undignified manner in which she had treated him. He told himself again and again that there was clearly no point in even attempting to talk to her if that was the way she was going to act.

Another thing that bothered him about her was that she had stolen Darkspot from him. The woman and the Leopard were now rarely seen out of one another's company. He had even seen Shayna scratching behind Darkspot's ears, a gesture of friendship that previously had been allotted solely to Gale. They would stand up on the stern deck, where he and Darkspot used to spend time together, and he would see them talking from where he was glowering in the middle of the ship.

He'd confronted Darkspot, rather more angrily than he afterwards realized was appropriate, and that also left a sour taste in his mouth whenever he dwelt on it too long. "I suppose you're going to go home with Shayna to Galma after the mission is done," he'd said bitterly. "I should never have trusted a Cat as a friend. You change sides as often as you twitch your tail."

Darkspot had lowered her ears. "What are you accusing me of, Gale? What have I done that is disloyal or cold toward you? You have banned yourself from our company, not the other way round. It is you who insists on making enemies of those who mean you nothing but good will. I have made a new friend, and I find in that no shame or cause for insult. Do not blame me from your stubbornness and pride."

"Everyone is against me!" he'd stormed, instead of answering Darkspot's questions. "First, it's Starhorn, then it was Andern and Shayna, and now it's you. Is there anyone I can go to now without the fear of having a lecture or a threat stuffed down my throat? I suppose Marris is plotting behind my back for the dragon to kill me so that he can take my throne!"

A snarl had rolled out of Darkspot's throat, her ears went flat against her skull, and a light came into her eyes that had made even Gale take a step back. "Do not speak ill of those who love you, even when that love is not always deserved," she growled threatening. "I may not have lived many years, but I tell you that your stubborn pride is turning the King of Narnia into a fool!"

The words of his oldest and dearest friend cut into him, mostly because some small part deep inside recognized the truth in every syllable. His guilt, however, translated into anger, as it always did. "How dare you?" he demanded. "Stay with your new friend if you like, but do not speak to me, and when we reach the Isles, you will remain on board the ship, you, Shayna, and everyone who I do not directly need in dealing with the governor and the dragon. You've made your choice, and I've made mine."

He'd turned to stalk off and felt a sudden sting of pain in his leg. He whirled around to see Darkspot's claws still out in her right paw from slashing them across his upper thigh. His leggings were ripped and a thin stream of blood trickled down and soaked the brown leather, leaving a dark brown stain. The Leopard bared her teeth at him, but he could see the reproach and hurt in her dark eyes. Without another word, she leapt away toward the trap door leading to below decks.

That had been two days ago. He hadn't spoken to Darkspot since the incident, mostly out of shame. The smarting cuts on his leg reminded him of how cruelly and foolishly he'd acted toward someone who had faithfully been his friend ever since he found the half-starved kitten whimpering outside her den, nuzzling the dead body of her mother. He'd been thirteen at the time and was newly acquainted with the grief of losing a parent, his father having been brought back from the Calormene wars but seven months ago and laid to rest near Cair Paravel. He buried his head in his hands. Why did his temper and pride always have to get the better of him?

He determined to make it up to his feline friend, even if it took him down a few notches. He'd already taken himself down quite a few with his behavior. He immediately knew what would please Darkspot, but the thought made his stomach feel like it had the first few days aboard _Wavedancer_. He would attempt to have a civil conversation with Shayna. As long as he could keep his temper, as long as she wasn't too discourteous, as long as it wasn't a very lengthy conversation…

When he emerged from his cabin into the midmorning sunlight, he shaded his eyes and glanced around the deck. Sailors were about, doing their various tasks that Gale did not understand. Darian was at the wheel and Marris was beside him, having a conversation. Darkspot always had a catnap around this time, so he figured his best chance of finding Shayna alone was now.

He spotted her at the prow, her elbows resting on the carved wooden railing which rose up higher here where the two sides met. Gale walked over, his hands clasped behind his back, his leg still throbbing as a constant reminder to keep his temper, and stood, shifting awkwardly beside the dark-haired woman.

She was still dressed in the plain masculine garments that she had boarded the ship in, and her hair was still a ruffled mane around her face from the wind. But her skin was no longer pale after a week on the ship's decks and had taken on a healthy pink-brown tinge.

As she didn't speak, his immediate thought was that she was purposefully ignoring him, which caused his temper to start simmering, but he tapped his left boot against the deck, which firstly, produced a slight noise to alert Shayna to his presence, and secondly, sent pain lancing through his cuts.

Shayna turned to him, and a look of slight surprise crossed her face; she hadn't known he was there after all. Two more looks altered her face afterwards successively, one of suspicion and defiance, and another that he did not recognize. These expressions gave way, however, to a smooth countenance of unconcern. "Your Majesty?" she said curtly.

Gale assumed that she knew what had happened between himself and Darkspot and that she was partly the cause. He concentrated on remaining calm and coordinated, although that annoying distracting feeling was beginning to take hold. It made it so he couldn't put his thoughts together properly, or if they managed to come together, they somehow couldn't come out in a sensible way. And the churning in his stomach wasn't helping matters either.

"I think this has gone too far," he said quietly, "you and I, I mean."

She raised a curious eyebrow and looked about to speak, but thought better of it, and remained silent. Her eyes fixed intently on his, however, never seeming to blink.

Gale looked past her out to the sea and tried to gather his thoughts from the calm waves. Why was it so blasted hard trying to apologize? He came to the conclusion that he might as well say it bluntly, since that seemed to be the way things always came out anyway. "Look here," he said. "I know I've been something of a brute so far toward you on this whole trip. It's the way I am, and the way I've always been: my temper and pride get in the way of common sense and courtesy. However I feel about you personally, as the King of Narnia, I should have treated you with all the respect and good manners that any subject of mine deserves, and I haven't done that. I fear that I haven't even given you the courtesy that one human owes a fellow. I'm sorry for that, and I hope that you haven't taken it as harshly as it deserves."

Shayna looked positively stunned. Clearly, a sincere apology was the last thing she had expected upon finding Gale standing beside her. For a moment, her calm reserve broke and she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, but she quickly shut it and pulled herself together. "Thank you, Your Majesty, er, I mean, you're forgiven, Your Majesty."

Gale dipped his head in acknowledgement. "You should call me Gale."

Once again, Shayna was taken off her guard. "But I shouldn't call you that, Your…I mean, it's hardly appropriate…"

Gale raised a hand to stop her stuttering. "No, perhaps it's not proper, but I gave you permission. And it won't be the first liberty you've taken with me, so it shouldn't cause you too much grief, I would think." He smiled and shrugged lightly at the last sentence, trying to show that he felt no ill will over her former impudence toward him, even though he himself was not quite sure he was over it. "I probably earned it anyway," he said, recalling what Darkspot had said along similar lines in the past week.

Something like a mischievous smile flitted across Shayna's face. "I've been told you earn it fairly often."

Gale realized that the little embers of anger had just about smoldered out now that he'd managed to suppress them. Shayna's comment would have usually set his anger flaring with indignity, but he recognized now the joking, half-mischievous tone in the woman's voice, even if the joke was at his expense. Once he realized it, he suddenly thought that it was fairly pleasant to not be angry for once and to share in the playful mockery. He allowed himself a smile. "Darkspot's told you quite a few stories about me, hasn't she?"

Shayna seemed to find her ease again. She leaned against the prow. "Oh, a fair few. She told me one just the other day about how you almost missed your coronation anniversary."

Gale leaned against the railing as well and let a larger smile spread across his face. "Which time? There are so many, they all start to blend together."

They both laughed, then they both grew solemn at almost the same time. "You're not much of a ceremony person, are you…Gale?" Shayna asked, hesitating momentarily before saying his name.

He shrugged. "I don't like sitting around and discussing issues indeterminately and attending dull events where I'm forced to dress up and remember exactly what I have to say. I like doing. I like squaring my shoulders and facing problems and beating them."

Shayna tipped her head to one side. "Am I a problem to beat, Gale?"

Gale eyed her thoughtfully. Darkspot was right; she was smart, clever, attentive. Bold, yes, overly bold, perhaps, but bright. "No," he said slowly. "Well, yes, maybe. Not the sort of problem I'm used to dealing with, that's for sure. But hopefully not any more," he added pensively.

"Not until I make the next comment that you take offense to," she said with a smirk.

Gale continued to look steadily and meditatively at her. "I suppose not," he said, not really quite sure what she had said that he was answering.

Something flashed in the water. There were always bits of sunlight dancing off the wave tops, but this was something brighter and larger. His eyes snapped away from Shayna and he leaned over the prow, trying to catch another glimpse of the object.

"What is it, Gale?" he heard Shayna ask.

"I don't know," he grunted.

He saw the flash again, this time very near the ship's hull. Something was bobbing along the waves top, but very soon it would be sucked under _Wavedancer_'s prow. He stuck out his hand. "Hand me one of those grappling ropes."

There were coils of the hooked ropes in the middle of the ship where they were stored when not in use. Shayna dragged one over and Gale felt her press it into his hand as he remained leaning over the railing, trying not to lose sight of the shining object. His curiosity along with some other strange pull that he couldn't describe made him determined to discover the object's identity. His tongue tip sticking out of the side of his mouth, he lowered the rope.

"What do you have, Your Majesty?"

Marris's voice came from behind him and he could hear other feet gathering around him, as the sailors and guards on deck noticed his strange behavior. He ignored the questions and lowered the rope fractionally. The hook bumped into the floating object.

"What do we have here? What's this commotion?" Andern's voice joined the general murmur, louder than the rest. "Your Majesty, what are you doing? That is not safe."

But Gale had hooked the object and was now pulling it up, slowly in fear of it coming disentangled. As it came closer, he pulled in the rope more quickly until he was able to reach out and snatch the shining wet object off the tip of the hook which he dropped at his feet as soon as it was over the railing. He turned around.

Shayna, Marris, Darkspot, Andern, and some dozen other men of the crew and his guard stood in a semi-circle around him, staring curiously at him. Gale barely glanced around at them before holding up the object clinched in his fist. A cord, made of some silky white material that he didn't recognize was fastened in a circle. Strung upon this cord were what appeared to be gleaming, irregular-shaped beads. It was these that he had seen glinting in the water. They were of various colors as well as sizes, some pure white, others a rosy pink, while still others were watery blue-green or a pale purple. They were all roughly round in size and filled almost the entire string, except for the ends, which were tied together to form the loop. Along with its dazzling beauty, Gale was surprised at how light it felt in his hands, disproving his first inclination that the beads were pearls or precious stones of some type. He couldn't take his eyes off it.

"It's a necklace," one of the sailors said loudly.

"What a necklace though," one of his companions replied.

Gale turned it over and over in his hands, running his fingers over the beads that were as smooth as river pebbles. He'd never seen anything like it before. Who could have lost such a treasure?

"May I see it, Your Majesty?"

Gale laid it in Andern's outstretched hand, and the captain inspected it with the same look of wonder as Gale had. "I've been sailing for thirty years," he finally said, shaking his head and handing the necklace back to Gale, "but I've never seen anything like that. Perhaps there's a sunken ship nearby and it floated to the surface. Pirates will fight among each other and sink one another for loot now and then."

Gale nodded dumbly. Something at the back of his mind told him that his fascination with the object was not quite normal, but he pushed the thought away. It wasn't everyday that one fished a priceless treasure out of the middle of the ocean, after all.

He lifted his gaze, and his eyes fell on Darkspot. She had remained silent the whole time, but she was watching him closely. He couldn't quite tell from her face, but he thought he saw her glance at his leg, looking a little sad.

Gale went to her and knelt down so that he was at eye level with her. He didn't do that often, for they were both comfortable with their differing forms and statures that Aslan had granted them. He stretched out his hands and slipped the glistening necklace around the Leopard's strong neck.

"I'm sorry, Darkspot," he said simply, knowing there was no need for more words.

Darkspot cocked her head so that she could see the necklace, then looked Gale in the eyes. "So am I," she said a tad regretfully, although he knew she was regretful, not for having scratched him, but for having needed to scratch him. "You did not need to buy me back with a gift, however," she went on. "The words and the true heart of a friend would have been enough."

"I know," Gale answered, "but accept the gift anyway. It will make me feel better. And it looks much more beautiful on you than it would on me."

Darkspot's teeth showed, this time in a laugh, however. "Cats do not need sparkling stones and soft false coats to be beautiful. And there are others that it could well go to. But I shall accept it, if you wish it."

"I do," Gale said firmly, "as long as your forgiveness goes with it."

"It does," Darkspot answered, and she purred softly.

Gale's heart lifted and despite all the people standing around watching, he did something that he had hardly ever had done before. He wrapped his strong arms around Darkspot's narrow shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. Her purr turned abruptly into a soft grunt of surprise and her front paws dangled in front of her as Gale's hug lifted her slightly from her sitting position.

A ripple of friendly laughter, some clapping, and even a couple cheers reminded Gale that they weren't alone. Feeling his cheeks heat up slightly, he released his friend and stepped back, brushing off the front of his tunic where a few stray yellow hairs were sticking. Darkspot tucked her head down and pretended to be busy licking the back of her paw. He glanced over at Shayna and found her smiling broadly, her white teeth showing in a laugh. The thought passed through his head that she was actually fairly pretty when she smiled like that.

Embarrassment, along with any other thoughts, were abruptly banished from his mind the next moment, however. Something struck him in the side, sending intense pain lancing through his body. His breath was driven out of him in a painful gasp.

He was vaguely aware of a whooshing sound and then soft thuds, some more solid than others. Something glanced off the wood at his feet, and he heard cries from some of the men gathered on the decks. Andern was bellowing something and men were rushing about, but the sudden pain made it all seem distant and hazy to Gale. He looked down, almost casually, and saw some type of dart sticking out of the cloth of his tunic. Around the cold metal, a patch of red spread out through his tunic.

Marris supported him as he slumped over, his breathing suddenly labored. His commander lowered him to the deck and leaned him back against the railing. He could feel Darkspot's hot breath on his cheek. "Your Majesty?" Marris questioned, concern thick in his voice. "Can you hear me, Your Majesty?"

Gale heard splashes and the shouts of men. Whoever – whatever – had shot him was attacking the ship now. Anger stirred within him again, a righteous anger this time. He wanted to fight, help Andern and his men against the unknown attackers. He tried vainly to shake off Marris's hands and rise, but the attempt ended in him slumping back onto the deck, his vision going black for several seconds. The dart in his side was ridiculously small – he'd suffered much worse injuries in the past – but the pain was mingled with some sort of debilitating weariness. His limbs didn't want to obey his mind. He just wanted to fall asleep. He felt the blanket of haziness pressing down on his anger and smothering it. "Just let me sleep," he grumbled at the hands on his shoulders.

There were voices that seemed to come from a long way away. They seemed to be panicking, but he couldn't think of what they could be so upset over. It was just a little nap he wanted after all, and the pain would be gone, too.

A new agony wrenched through him, and his mind cleared suddenly. He wasn't sure he was happy about this, however, as coming back to reality made him face his pain again. "Oww," he complained.

"Thank the Lion, we thought you'd gone too far," Marris said. "It was the dart: there was some sort of spell or poison on it. Darkspot got it out of you."

The commander held up the dart. It was about three inches long, the point wickedly barbed, and the end fletched with some solid, streamline substance.

Gale, however, had little interest in the missile now that it was out of him. His side still hurt a good deal, but it was nothing like it had been when the dart was still in him, and the drowsiness had vanished. "What's going on?" he demanded, hearing shouts, splashes, and general commotion still raging.

"Merpeople," Darkspot answered. "And not the friendly type we have around Cair Paravel either."

"You don't say," Gale grunted as he moved and pain rushed down his side.

"They have blowpipes to shoot those darts," Marris said. "And some of them seem to have a type of hacking weapon, like an axe. They're trying to knock holes in the ship while the ones with the blowpipes cover them. Or at least, that's what I've gathered. I couldn't leave you in the state you were in a moment ago."

Gale waved him away, though not impatiently. "I'm fine now. Let's see what we can do."

Andern had directed his men to stay low, concealing themselves as best as possible below the railing, guarded by the ship's hull from the darts. It seemed that other than Gale, eight men had been struck, but the darts had been removed and none of them were mortally wounded.

Gale dropped down beside the captain, who was stationed at the prow with Darian. The captain glanced at the king. "They're making us keep our heads down while they hole the ship," Andern said grimly. "We tried shooting down at them, but they're faster with those blowpipes, and they got all our archers before they could loose an arrow. We were lucky that none of the darts struck anywhere vital. It's seems we're at an impasse, unless we can figure out a way to get at them without being shot the moment our heads appear over the railing. They're vicious creatures, sure enough. But we have to do something quickly, or the ship will soon be taking on water. And then it would seem that our choice will be being shot or drowning."

Gale frowned. "I've never heard of merpeople behaving this way, certainly not this close to human lands."

Andern shrugged. "What Your Majesty may have thought at one point is of no consequence now. Right now, we need a plan of action, not curious musings."

The sound of the weapons thudding into the hull below them was increasing. A stray dart flew up over the ship's side and embedded itself in the deck behind Gale. A warning to the men not to raise their heads.

"A plan sometime this month would be helpful, Your Majesty!" Andern gritted.

"I've just been shot with a magic dart," Gale complained. "I can't think of counterplans against warlike merpeople all in a minute, you know."

"Captain! The wood is getting thin down there," Darian called as the timbre of the hacking sounds changed.

"Stop! Stop it, all of you!"

Gale's head jerked up at the sound of a completely unexpected voice ringing out over the battle. Shayna was standing out on the jutting prow, one hand supporting herself with a rope. The noise of the conflict stilled, and the hacking thankfully stopped. Gale risked a peek over the railing and saw some two dozen merpeople staring up at Shayna. Their expressions were angry, but they seemed to be patient for the moment. Most of the group were male, but Gale saw in the middle of the group a single female who bore no weapon and was staring intently at Shayna. Gale returned his gaze to the woman on the prow as well.

Shayna held up her hand, and sunlight flashed off the necklace that she was clutching firmly. "I don't know if you can understand me," she called down at the merpeople below her, "but I want to say that we meant you no harm. You can have it back; we didn't know it was yours when we took it. We're sorry that we stole from you." With those words she tossed the necklace toward the grouped merpeople.

It flashed through the air, rotating slowly, and when it hit the surface, it seemed that thousands of shining diamonds of water drops sprayed up around it. Immediately, the merman swam forward and caught it up in his hand. As Gale watched, the man presented it to the merwoman who took it happily and placed it around her neck. Gale realized she was young, hardly in her teens, at least as he guessed from looking at her. The mermaid glanced up at Shayna once, then vanished under the waves. There was a ripple over the sea, and when the water stilled, it was as if no merpeople had ever been there.

Gale slumped backwards in relief.

The sailors went about the work of clearing away the darts from the deck and helping their injured companions to the bunks below deck, while Darian oversaw several men being lowered over the prow to inspect the damage done. The report was brought back that the wood was worn thin in several places, but the merfolk hadn't managed to break through and the ship should reach Narrowhaven without a serious problem.

Now that the excitement and danger was past, the pain from his side returned to Gale. He touched the spot gingerly and winced. This was not a good incident a week or less before he was going to fight a dragon. The wound would hardly be closed by that time, let alone fully healed.

He sat down near the mast and was joined by Darkspot, Marris, and Shayna. Marris had a cup of water for him, which he thankfully drank, as Shayna and Darkspot sat down on either side of him. Gale scratched fondly behind the Leopard's ears until she purred, but looked at Shayna. "How did you know?"

Shayna reached across him and scratched behind Darkspot's other ear. The pleasured look that crossed the Leopard's face was amusing. "It was Darkspot's idea just as much as mine. We could see that you men weren't getting anywhere with attacking, so we decided to approach the problem from a woman's point of view. Merfolk aren't know to just attack random ships out at sea; clearly, we'd angered this particular group. We also noticed that they weren't aiming to kill. Like you, all the other injured men were struck in their legs or arms, instead of anywhere permanently damaging. So their goal wasn't to kill us all, we figured. And as soon as we thought that, we knew they were after the necklace. After all, we'd just pulled it out of the sea, it was clearly magical and valuable, and it looked like a mer-object anyway. When I climbed on the prow, I saw the girl in the middle of all the warriors, and I knew we'd been right. She must have been a princess or something and had lost her necklace. We figured that if we gave it back, they'd be satisfied and leave us alone." She rubbed under Darkspot's chin. "And luckily, we were right, weren't we?"

Darkspot slitted her eyes open and looked at Gale. "Yes, that was some gift you gave me, Gale. You're lucky you survived it. I'll have to think twice before I let you hang any strings and stones around my neck again."

Gale chuckled, but this caused a fresh wave of pain from his side. Midway through his chuckle, he groaned and leaned over, his hand automatically going to his side. Immediately hands supported him from both sides, Marris on his right and Shayna on his left. Darkspot looked up at him in concern.

"We'll get you below decks with the other casualties," Marris said firmly, aware that Gale would insist that he was all right. When the king began to do this, Marris shook his head. "The dart may be gone, but we don't know what lasting effects it might have, and don't forget, Your Majesty, you have a dragon fight in your near future. We need to have you as well as possible when the time comes. We'll have that wound inspected, cleaned, and patched up in no time."

Gale opened his mouth to protest that he could find his own way down and he wasn't an invalid, but it was Shayna this time who halted him. "And if you argue, I'll tell Darkspot to sit on you and hold you down. Or I might just clobber you over the head with a plank myself."

Gale allowed them to help him up, a small, defeated smile touching his lips. "I guess I can't argue with that," he said.


	14. The Doom of the Stars

Chapter 13: The Doom of the Stars

Smoke rose from Felimath. Even before the island itself was in sight, the thin columns of black could be seen spiraling up from the horizon, marring the clear blue of the sky. Those black lines drawn in the heavens were like signs of doom for Gale.

The lookout had sighted them that morning as the rest of the ship's company was below decks eating breakfast around eight. The man's excited shouts had sent them all rushing up and pouring out over the deck, heading for the prow, where Gale had a fine sight of the columns. At the sight of them, his appetite vanished, and he wished he hadn't just eaten.

The next call came from the lookout around ten-thirty. This time when Gale rushed to the prow, there was no sight of the land that had prompted the lookout's cry, but Gale knew he'd soon be able to see it from the deck. Joined by Andern, Marris, Darkspot, and Shayna, he'd stared intently at the line between sea and sky until it was broken by a black shape that Gale knew was the westernmost of the three Lone Isles.

Now, at one that afternoon, the islands were easily distinguishable. The easternmost of the Isles, Doorn, where they would be making port at Narrowhaven, was not yet visible, but Felimath and Avra stood directly in _Wavedancer's _path. The curling smoke was mostly rising from the former, though Avra looked in no good shape. Both the islands were fairly flat, with a few rolling hills, but they were blackened. What Gale guessed had once been fine pasture lands and green dells were now charred earth. He scanned Felimath, hoping to catch sight of his adversary, but the dragon didn't show itself.

"Don't worry, Your Majesty, I'm sure you'll have more than your fill of dragon sightings in the next twenty-four hours," Marris said, reading Gale's disappointed expression correctly.

"I want to see what I'm up against as soon as possible," Gale answered.

"Teeth, claws, fire, and scales," Marris replied. "Does it really matter how big the brute is?"

Gale looked at him and saw the grim expression on his high commander's face. He nodded slowly. "You have a point." He pressed his fingers lightly against his side. The dart wound had closed, but if he applied too much pressure to the spot, or if he raised his left arm too high stretching the skin on his side, he could feel the pain of his injury. It wasn't an ideal situation, but he was just going to have to make do. _Just thank the Lion it wasn't the right side,_ he thought, considering the fix he would have been if he'd been unable to lift his sword-arm.

From the opposite end of the ship, Andern shouted a few commands. Soon after, _Wavedancer_ slowly turned from her eastern course, heading south-east to sail around the two islands to reach Doorn. Gale continued to gaze intently at Felimath as they sailed past, still hoping for a sight of the dragon.

His wish was granted. A terrific bellow suddenly shattered the silence, causing many heads to whip around in fear. Gale felt a shudder pass through him at the sound, but that was nothing compared to what he felt as the dragon itself came into view.

It rose from Felimath on vast black wings, cruelly hooked on the ends and covered in dark membranes. The beast itself was perhaps forty feet long, covered in scales that ranged from black to a silvery grey, with a tail that ended in a vicious diamond-shaped spike. Horns jutted out from the back of its skull and a long row of spines, connected by more membrane, ran all the way down its spine to the end of its tail.

It hovered on an updraft for a few moments, while _Wavedancer's _crew all stood stock still, aware that if it noticed and took a fancy to them, no one in Narnia would ever hear from them again. However, the dragon did not look out to sea. It flapped for a few more seconds then resettled on the ground behind another of Felimath's hills. All Gale could see of it were its still outstretched wings, but then those too vanished as the dragon folded them. A collective sigh of relief ran through everyone on board _Wavedancer_.

"Let's get to the castle as quickly as possible, shall we?" Gale said, trying to sound light-hearted.

"I don't think anyone's going to argue with that, Your Majesty," Marris replied. The high commander's face was pale, but Gale knew that there were few men braver aboard the ship. His own heart was beating a little too fast for comfort, and he guessed that the same pallor had claimed his own features.

They passed Felimath, then Avra, with no more dragon sightings, although they heard it roar twice more, and pulled into the bay of Narrowhaven. The town was in ruins; the houses had either been burnt or partially knocked over for the most part, as if the dragon's tail had slammed into the stone walls or it had ripped them apart looking for victims. On the hill, the castle of the governor still stood strong, its thick, rubble-filled walls much stronger than those of ordinary houses. There was no sign of life, however, from either the town or the fortress.

Gale stood aside as Andern arranged the shore parties. _Wavedancer_ was equipped with only three longboats, which would not be quite sufficient in bringing all the crew to land at once. Usually, Andern would have left at least six men aboard the ship to watch over it, but with the threat of the dragon, he was more willing to lose a ship than his loyal men.

As Gale watched, a shape rose from the castle and came gliding toward them. At first, he stiffened, unsure of what the strange object was, but as it circled closer, he recognized the brown plumage and majestic outline of a sea eagle. It floated over the ship, then began to descend gracefully, until Gale could see that it was no normal animal, but a Narnian Talking Beast. Only when he realized that did he remember the messenger he had sent to the Lone Isles to tell the islanders of his imminent arrival.

Windsea the Sea Eagle landed on the railing before Gale and Marris. She dipped her head to the king and spread her wings in a gesture of avian respect. "Your Majesty," she said, "you are eagerly awaited at the castle. The governor sent me to tell you to come ashore as soon as you can. It isn't safe to remain in the open for too long. Your journey has been agreeable, I presume?"

Gale thought wryly about the diversion with the pirates and the recent merfolk attack. "For the most part, yes."

Windsea spread her wings again. "The governor's men will meet you at the docks. They thank you heartily for coming to their aid." The wind caught her wings and lifted her from the railing. She rose until she was a brown smudge against the sky as she circled back toward the castle.

The longboats were lowered and the first party made their way to the shore. Andern had insisted that Gale go ahead while he remained behind as was his duty as ship's captain. Gale had recognized that there was no point in arguing with the captain, even if his pride might have encouraged him to stay on other occasions. But now he recognized that it was his duty to go ahead and meet the governor's men at the docks.

There was a company of ten men, led by one of the governor's captains, waiting for them when the ships pulled up to the docks, or what remained of them, for the wooden wharfs had been burned. Gale couldn't help but notice how timid the men seemed, and how they kept glancing nervously at the sky or in Felimath's direction. Remembering the awesome and terrifying sight of the great black dragon rising from the scorched earth, he could hardly blame them.

The second party with Andern arrived in some ten minutes' time. "Come," the governor's captain said, beckoning the Narnians, "it's not wise to stay outside the castle for too long."

Inside the castle, they were met with a dreary sight. It seemed as if a whole town was attempting to operate inside the small courtyard. The governor's castle was no Cair Paravel; it was not built to house more than the governor and his family and honorary guard, as well as the occasional visitors that his station required. But for almost two months now, the castle had been the working home of the population of the entire three islands. Tents, or makeshift structures built of whatever people could get their hands on, were crowded into the courtyard, making it difficult to even walk through. The people gathered around as the Narnians passed through. They were ragged and dirty, as if they had been wearing the same clothes since they arrived, which was probably true for many if they had been forced to flee their homes without rescuing any of their belongings. Their faces were drawn from worry and many a sleepless night, but Gale saw hope gleaming in their tired eyes as they looked at him, and a murmur and then a cheer went up as he passed between them. He raised his hand, smiling, acknowledging them and putting on a confident outer appearance. He only hoped that their trust in him would prove well deserved.

In the castle itself, there was more evidence of its status as the temporary living quarters of Narrowhaven and the other Lone Isle villages. The governor's guard led them through the halls strewn with blankets and sometimes a straw mat that served as beds. Murmurs of "the king of Narnia" and "we're saved" echoed in Gale's ears as he passed by. The halls opened out finally into the main hall where on usual occasions feasts would be held, visitors entertained, and where the governor would hold meetings. Here, there were no makeshift beds and crowding villagers, but crates of food were stacked all around the room, over head high against the walls in most places.

The governor was a flustered, older man with an ample paunch and some wisps of white hair on his smooth round head. He bowed to Gale, his robes fluttering about him. "Your Majesty, we are your humble servants. I'm afraid we're in no fit condition to properly entertain a real king, sir, but please make yourself at home as best as you can. We will provide anything that you or your men need after your journey. May I speak for all my people and say that we are eternally grateful for Your Majesty's consideration in coming. Sir, I'm sorry we are not as formal or organized as I'm sure you are used to, but – "

" – but you have been dealing with quite extraordinary circumstances and therefore, you are forgiven for any lack of ceremony," Gale finished.

"Thank you very much, Your Majesty," the old man said, bowing once again.

Gale inclined his head. "For now, all we seek is somewhere to rest for this afternoon and tonight. It's already late, and I'm sure it won't be a problem if I wait until tomorrow morning to fight the dragon."

"Of course not, sir! And Your Majesty knows that my men are willing to help in whatever way you see fit. Please do not hesitate – "

Again, Gale was forced to interrupt the governor's anxious babbling. "Yes, of course, governor. I and my men are tired from our voyage. Perhaps you could spare us some quarters. We have brought our own food, so you needn't worry about feeding us."

But the governor shook his head. "No, Your Majesty, we have plenty of food to spare for you. We were able to save most of the supplies from Doorn and Avra before the dragon destroyed the crops. We will provide supper for you and your men this evening. Please, my captain will show you and your companions where you will be staying. Warm bathes will be provided and fresh clothes if those are needed."

After Gale managed to thank and dismiss himself from the governor, he and the other Narnians were led away by the same captain to a new part of the castle. The rooms were on the upper levels of the castle keep, and here there was less evidence of the everyday bustling life of below. Gale was shown into a rather fine room that he imagined was for important visitors or members of the governor's family. There was a bed draped in soft covers, a pleasant change from the hard rocking bunks on _Wavedancer_, tapestries hung on the wall, and a small fire was banked in a hearth. True, it was not his sumptuous room back in Cair Paravel, but he was not about to complain.

As promised, a warm bath was waiting and he gratefully took advantage of the fresh streaming water to wash off all the grime he had acquired after a month aboard the ship with no water that could be spared for such cleanliness. Afterwards, he put on a new tunic, shaved his ragged beard back down to the more orderly stubble that he preferred, and pulled his crown out of his baggage and set it on the table so he wouldn't forget to wear it to the supper that the governor was providing. Then he sat down at the window and gazed out for a time. The window faced west, and across the channel he could see the remains of Avra glaring at him in its ruin. There was no sight nor sound of his foe, but his stomach twisted all the same.

A knock sounded on the door. Swiftly, he rose to answer it, not unhappy at being interrupted from the dark thoughts that his mind had been leading him toward. When he opened the door, he found Shayna waiting for him.

Evidently, she also had bathed, for her hair still hung wet around her face and she was dressed in a clean simple smock. Gale smiled and beckoned her in, closing the door behind her as she stepped past him. She went to the window and looked out. "You're lucky; my window faces south," she said.

Gale stood beside her, glancing out at the bleak view. "We could switch if you like. I don't know that I want to spend the whole night staring out and wondering if at any minute a blast of fire is going to burst through."

She turned from the window, leaning her back against the sill and facing him. "What do you plan to do tomorrow, Gale?"

Gale scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I was thinking I'd take one of the longboats to Avra, lure the beast in somehow, and ambush it. I've got my long spear and I've heard their biggest weakness is the roof of their mouths before they breathe fire…"

"You don't have a plan," Shayna said pointedly, leveling a grim stare at him.

"Just because I don't have every step planned doesn't mean I don't have anything."

"Lure the beast in somehow?" Shayna repeated. "Heard that their biggest weakness is their mouths? You don't really intend on going out there tomorrow with only that to go by."

"All right, fine," Gale said, slightly exasperatedly. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do exactly, but I know what I have to do. I'm not letting these people down, Shayna. You saw them. We are their only hope. _I_ am their only hope. If I can't figure out a way to deal with the dragon, then they're doomed and we with them. And I couldn't exactly make detailed battle plans until I saw the landscape and the actual dragon, now could I?"

Shayna seemed to decide not to press the point, at least for the time being. Instead, she stared keenly at him, until he started to feel decidedly uneasy. "Who are you going to take with you?" she asked finally.

Gale fidgeted with the hem of a satin curtain that was pulled back from the window. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Who are you taking? Are you going to take any of the governor's men?"

Gale forced himself to look at her. "I'm going alone. I've already told you that."

An expression of disappointment and disbelief crossed her face. "I thought you gave that foolish idea up," she exclaimed. "Why, Gale? Why, when you have plenty of men who will willingly aid you?"

"Because this is my task," he rejoined. "I swore that I would kill the dragon, and I intend on doing it. I won't put anyone else in harm's way. I would be ashamed to return to Narnia with the news that I needed a dozen armed guards surrounding me to fulfill my word."

"This is still about your pride," she shot back. "Can't you see that? This is what we came with you to do, all of us: to stand by you until the end. You're worried about _your_ shame; how do you think Marris will feel if you refuse to allow him to help you, or any of your men?"

He folded his arms and faced her, feeling his anger starting to rise. But along with the anger, he felt a vague sense of confusion. He was aware that he was acting foolishly in the back of his mind, but he didn't understand why Shayna felt so strongly about his actions. A few weeks ago, they had not even known each other.

"I know any of them would die fighting for me in a heartbeat," he answered. "Don't think I don't appreciate their loyalty to me. I'll take Marris with me tomorrow, though I won't let him fight unless I absolutely need him. There, are you happy?"

"No, I'm not," she said hotly. "I saw that monster this morning, and I realize that it's going to take a good deal to bring it down. I may not be a fighter, Your Majesty, but I know that you will be risking your life in the most extreme manner if you go alone to face it tomorrow. And we aren't going to let you do that. Marris won't. Darkspot won't. I won't. We'll restrain you if we have to."

Gale spread his arms wide. "What is this? I've said I'll take Marris. I'm not the inept child that everyone seems to think I am. I'm doing what I think is right. I am the king, and it is my duty to take risks."

Shayna's eyes were hard. They seemed to bore into him. "Somehow, I think that being king is about more than taking risks, Your Majesty. There are those who love you, and you are too stubborn and thick-headed to see it. Marris is more loyal to you then you can possibly imagine, and Darkspot loves you fiercely. Don't throw all that away, Your Majesty."

Gale's brows knitted. Something was stirring in his heart that he tried to grasp but could not quite keep a hold on. "What is it you want?" he demanded.

She tipped her head back, the same boring stare burning into him. "What am I to you, Gale?" she asked slowly, each word weighty and carefully formed.

It wasn't a question Gale expected. He looked around the room helplessly, as if some ready-made answer would be floating there. Of course, there wasn't, and he was forced to return his gaze to Shayna. "Well," he blustered, "you're my subject, of course. I'm the king, and therefore, I feel responsibility toward you, along with all other Narnians. It's my duty to protect you, as it is my duty to protect Marris, and Darkspot, and the Lone Islanders."

A mist formed in Shayna's eyes and she bit her lip. She lowered her head, and he sensed she was fighting some emotion, for when she looked back up at him, her face was strangely blank. "I see, Your Majesty," she said with a stiffness that surprised him. "And of course, as just one more of your humble subjects, I shan't bother you about your most important and grand business any longer. So if Your Majesty will excuse me…"

Despite her words, she didn't wait for his dismissal. Instead, she brushed past him and hurried to the door. He tried to follow her, attempting to make some reply, but before he could say anything she had vanished through the door and it had shut in his face.

Gale flopped down wearily across his bed, tired, angry, and confused. Clearly, he had not answered her question correctly, but he could not see why she should be so upset over the truth. He had agreed not to go alone, and now that he thought about it, he figured it probably wouldn't hurt to take a few more men as a backup, just in case. He realized that his boastful claim to go alone had been just that, a boast. Why had he wanted to show off? For that was what he had been doing. It was stupid to think he could actually kill the dragon all by himself. He sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his loose hair. "Women," he snorted, not sure what else to say.

The door eased open and a yellow form glided in and hopped up onto the bed next to him. Darkspot settled herself and licked his hand affectionately. "How is your wound, Gale?"

Gale grunted in reply and shrugged. Darkspot lifted her head and stared thoughtfully at him. "Nerves, Gale, or something else? I sense there is more fear in you then a simple dragon could ever manage to stir up. What is the matter?"

At first, he didn't want to talk, but he found that the bubbling emotions didn't want to stay down. He told Darkspot of his argument with Shayna, the decision he'd reached concerning companions, and the final question Shayna had put to him, along with his answer. "She's insane," he answered. "I think I'm getting along fine with her one moment, and the next moment she blows up at me for no reason."

Darkspot was silent as he ranted, but she didn't look at him. Her chin resting on the covers, she gazed past him out the window. Her tail twitched slowly. Gale's frustration finally simmered out with his tirade, and he looked pleadingly at his friend. "What have I done wrong? Advise me, Darkspot. I don't know what to do."

Darkspot rose and leapt gracefully off the bed. She loped toward the door, but stopped just short of it, turning. He was unable to read the dark pools of her eyes. "I think that exactly is your problem," she answered. "And I do not think it is my place to say. This is beyond the advice of a Talking Beast. For the problem to be solved, you must answer your own questions, Gale."

Before he could interrogate her further, she slipped out the door and was gone.

Gale dropped backwards back into his pillows, rubbing his brow. Why did things always have to be so complicated?

He didn't have much time left to consider his plight, however, for another knock sounded at his door soon after, this time his visitor being one of the governor's guards coming to tell him that supper was ready. He snatched up his crown before following the man back down to the main hall.

It had changed since he'd last been there. The crates had been shifted around or removed, creating a large open space where tables had been set up. A large fire was burning in the hearth, filling the room with light, and it seemed that most of the population of the Lone Isles was there to greet him.

He was given a seat at the head table beside the governor from where he could see all the villagers, along with _Wavedancer's_ crew and his own guards seated at the long tables. The fare that covered the tables was plain, but plentiful, and the smell of the freshly cooked food made Gale's stomach rumble eagerly. The governor said a few words, once again thanking Gale and the Narnians and apologizing for the simple food, but asking him to enjoy himself and partake of the Lone Islanders' grateful tribute. Gale, in turn, offered words of thanks and appropriate confidence concerning his upcoming fight with the dragon, the results of which were hearty cheers from all the islanders in the room. The sight of their hopeful, cheering faces brought back some of Gale's good mood.

Marris was seated at the table with him, as was Andern, and Darkspot crouched on the floor nearby, but as Gale began eating and glanced around the room, he saw that Shayna was absent. He forced himself not to linger on the fact. If Shayna had decided to pout in her room over whatever he'd offended her with, that was her problem. But all the same, he couldn't help feeling a little sorry.

The governor introduced Gale to his son, a man slightly younger than Gale himself. He had the same round, red face and abundant middle as his father, and his hair was a musty yellow color. He was clean-shaven, but that only served to give him a boyish look. Gale nodded to him and listened politely as the young man told him about how he'd first sighted the dragon flying from the east across the sea and how he'd raised the alarm that had given the villagers the time to save most of the supplies in Narrowhaven. Gale wasn't really listening, however.

They had been eating for ten minutes perhaps, when he suddenly heard Andern to his left emit a low whistle. "Well now, who would have thought we'd picked up a princess."

At first, Gale had no idea what the captain was talking about, but then he looked up, following Andern's gaze. What he saw made his jaw drop.

A woman was standing in the entrance to the hall, a woman whom it took Gale a few seconds to realize was Shayna. Gone was the ruffled mess of hair, the overlarge masculine clothes or simple smock. She was wearing a floor-length dress of dark blue satin trimmed with gold with a deep, semi-circular neckline and long sleeves, a garment that fit her feminine form much better than anything she had worn previously. Her long hair had been combed, and though still voluminous, it hung in an ordered curtain of dark curls about her face. She held herself with the poise of a noblewoman as she swept across the hall, attracting the eyes of everyone she passed. Gale continued to stare despite himself, trying to reconcile this image of beauty with the disheveled, pert young woman he had come to know.

The transformed Shayna bowed elegantly in front of the governor and he greeted her enthusiastically before glancing around the head table. "Please, come and have a seat," he said, indicating an empty spot on the other side of his son. "We've begun the feast, but there is still plenty for you. Where do you come from, my lady? Cair Paravel?"

Gale heard Shayna answer him pleasantly as she took her seat. She hadn't even bothered to glance in his direction. He stole a quick look around the governor and saw Shayna being introduced to the governor's son who was beaming at finding himself seated beside a Narnian beauty. She seemed all smiles, as if the argument between her and Gale that afternoon had never taken place.

Gale went back to eating, determined not to show his distraction, but he couldn't stop himself thinking. She could have at least nodded to him, looked in his direction. How would it look to the islanders if one of his own subjects refused to even acknowledge him? What had he done that deserved being ignored?

Marris and Andern were chatting with each other contentedly over their glasses of wine, and the sound of happy discussion filled the hall. The atmosphere was one of long-absent relief and new-found hope, an aura that should have filled him with confidence and pleasure, but he couldn't manage to enjoy the food or the company. He kept stealing what he thought were subtle glances over at the other side of the table where Shayna and the governor's son were chatting. He saw the young man reach over to pour more wine into Shayna's glass, and Shayna touched his hand casually in a gesture that he had filled it far enough. They both drank and continued to talk, both seeming content and happy.

Various people approached Gale to offer their thanks and best wishes for his fight before they retired for the night, and he acknowledged them automatically. After a couple had profusely thanked him and insisted on him accepting a bottle of their best wine, he glanced back over at Shayna. Whatever she was discussing with the governor's son, it seemed to be quite entrancing to her. He'd hoped that she'd grow weary of the young man and come around to say something to himself, but that didn't appear to be happening any time in the near future. As he watched out of the corner of his eye, he realized that she was actually flirting with delighted governor's son, and the realization made a cold pit form in his stomach. He looked away. Why should he care? Let her do what she pleased. But how in the world could she find that simpering, boy-faced nobleman's son more pleasing company than the king of Narnia?

Finally, he could stand it no longer. He gave his polite thanks to the governor for the meal and retired, forcing himself to keep his eyes straight ahead as he walked out the door. He considered returning to his room, but the thought didn't please him. He wanted to walk around, get some fresh air, work some of the stress out of his system.

He told one of the guards that he wished to go outside, and the guard showed him to a back door, away from the main entrance. "You'll find the governor's gardens out there," the man said. "There's less tents out that way, and you should be able to walk in private for a while. But it you hear the alarm sounded, get inside as quickly as you can." Gale thanked the man and exited the castle, grateful to be by himself after the noise and commotion of the feast hall.

The moon shone over the garden and the Narnian stars gleamed overhead. The garden wasn't large, but there was no one else about, and the sweet smell of the flowers mingled with the pleasant loneliness made him relax a little. A path paved with small colorful pebbles wound its way through the bushes and flowers and then under some fruit trees and he followed it, attempting to keep his mind blissfully blank.

There was a bench under an apple trees and he sat for a time, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. The air had the same sea tang that it had in Cair Paravel, and with his eyes closed, he could almost imagine he was back home. With a sudden pang, he realized he missed the grand Narnian castle where he'd lived all his life.

Just as suddenly he realized he was no longer alone. He opened his eyes and saw a figure making its way down the path he'd just traversed. His heart leapt into his mouth as he recognized Shayna.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, not sure if she'd followed him, or if she too had simply sought peace after the loud supper. If the latter were the case, he wasn't sure that he'd be welcome company. Something ached inside as he remembered how she'd acted toward the governor's son and how she'd ignored him. He half-considered turning and striding away before she reached him – two could play at her game after all – but he couldn't do it. His feet led him toward her, and he had a vague feeling that they wouldn't have taken him anywhere else, even if he'd wanted them to.

She looked up as he approached. She didn't immediately turn from him or ignore him, but simply gazed at him, which almost made him feel more nervous. She was still wearing the dress from supper, and her hair blew about her from the sea wind that came over the walls.

He stopped a few paces from her. "Hello," he said, thinking of nothing else to say.

"Your Majesty." The cold stiffness of the formality cut into him, but he refused to show her that it did. He clasped his hands behind him and gazed at her.

"I've said that I prefer 'Gale'," he replied.

She remained where she was, her hands at her sides. "I am your subject, Your Majesty. I must be considerate of your position. It is hardly my place to call my liege by his name as if we were common friends."

He stepped closer to her. A deep need to come to a reconciliation with her, if not more, ached inside him. He was still not quite sure why his words had wounded her so much, but he was beginning to comprehend his mistakes. "But we are friends, I would hope," he said quietly. No change came over her, and he went on, taking another step toward her. "You're right," he said, "I was acting foolishly, but anyone will tell you that such behavior is hardly new to me." He'd meant the statement to be light-hearted, almost joking, but as he said it, it struck home in an uncomfortable way. He fought past his unease, however, and went on.

"I won't go alone tomorrow. Marris probably would never let me hear the end of it, and Darkspot would probably bite my feet off before she'd allow me to march out there with no help. I don't know what came over me, to make me say I could do it alone. I'll take Marris, I promise, and his guards. That's what they're here for, and all of us together will be a match for any dragon."

She just looked at him. He couldn't tell whether his words had appeased her or not; he could only hope they had.

"I'm glad you've made that decision," she said at last, gazing past him at the trees. She didn't sound as cold as she had previously, but he felt a sadness or agitation in her tone.

"You're angry with me," he said slowly. "Please, Shayna, why are you angry with me?"

She looked back into his eyes. "If you don't know, then there is no point in me telling you."

Her words echoed Darkspot's. He frowned, trying to understand the riddle, the piece of the puzzle that somehow wasn't fitting together for him. He mulled over the memories he had of her: their first disastrous conversation on _Wavedancer_, her insistence on coming at Galma, their reconciliation before the merfolk attack, and the recent events of this afternoon and evening. The curious feeling of distraction that he'd felt around her for the last few weeks tugged at him and he looked at her, as if somehow he might find the answer in her bright eyes or her long dark hair. She was beautiful, he thought, more beautiful than anything he could recall seeing before…

He wasn't sure what made him reach out to her, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Taking her white hands in his, he looked down into her eyes. His heart beat as fast as it had during the battle in which he had rescued her and his cheeks felt hot, even though the sea breeze of evening was cool against them. Her eyes never left his as they stood there silently, and in the silence, he finally understood. And when he did, he knew exactly what to do. Bending his head, he gently pressed his lips to hers.

For an awful moment he was afraid she wouldn't kiss him back, or even worse, that she would pull away from him. But his fears were needless; after a second, she kissed him back with an enthusiasm that startled him. She slipped her arms about his shoulders and he held her tenderly, and her hair felt like silk against his hands and his cheeks. He closed his eyes and savored her warmth and the delightful passion of their embrace.

His lips left hers reluctantly, but he drew back from her at last and gazed at her. Her cheeks were flushed, but she met his eyes with a boldness and a mischievousness that made him wonder what he had just gotten himself into. Then he realized that it didn't matter, and he let a grin split his features. "I love you, Shayna," he said.

Her fingers trailed through his shaggy golden hair. "I thought you'd never see it," she said, a smile crossing her face as well. "I love you too, Gale."

He kissed her again, and when they parted, he felt giddy, as if the world was spinning around him. "How long…?" he managed, trying to control his dizziness.

"All along," she answered. "You didn't think I wanted to come along on this trip just to see one old dragon, did you?"

"Well, I did," he said, still feeling a little confused and not sure how to handle the new-found feelings that were pulsing through him. How could he have been so blind all this time? "You were rather rude to me, though, back when we first met."

"Rude or truthful?" she retorted.

He pondered this reply a moment. "Both maybe?" he offered.

She stroked his cheek, her fingers brushing over the rough stubble. "You can blame Darkspot, if you like. I confided in her about my feelings for you, and she said you'd need a firm hand, and that someone standing up to you and telling you the truth wouldn't be a bad thing. She said I was just the person you needed, someone with a little spunk."

"Did she?" Gale said, a little surprised, and yet not surprised at all. "The cheeky Beast."

That mischievous smile flickered across Shayna's face again. "She did. She was also the one who told me that flirting with the governor's son would be just the thing to put you into your place."

Gale grimaced as he remembered the torment he'd been put through during supper. "And where is my place?"

Her hands slid back down to his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him. "I'd say it's right here in my arms where I can keep a watchful eye on you to make sure you don't do anything too reckless and stupid. You're not going to try to slip away alone tomorrow, are you?"

"I promise," he replied. "If the dragon didn't kill me, either you, Marris, or Darkspot would when I got back."

"It would be Darkspot," Shayna said with a grin.

Gale chuckled. "You're right; it would be Darkspot."

They kissed again and then they sat side by side on the bench under the apple tree where Shayna laid her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly, her hand grasping his. He rested his cheek on the top of her silken head, and in that position he found himself looking up at the stars which twinkled like myriad laughing eyes in the dark blue sky of late evening. A sudden thought struck him and he laughed.

"What is it, Gale?" Shayna asked, lifting her head slightly.

"Do you believe that the stars foretell our destinies?"

"I don't know," she said, sounding confused.

Gale smiled. "I do," he said.


	15. Gale and the Dragon

Chapter 14: Gale and the Dragon

"Thank you for coming, my friends. Tomorrow will be a day of destiny for all of us, and I think it will be worth our time to discuss our plans now before retiring to our beds."

The remains of supper had been cleared away from the main hall of the governor's castle, which was now acting as a temporary meeting room for the dozen or so people gathered there. Gale sat at the head table, his long spear laid out on the wood before him, while around him gathered his companions, as well as the captain of the Lone Island guard, a no-nonsense, sturdy fellow named Brander. The hall was dimly lit by torches on the walls, and the moon was shining in faintly through the narrow windows.

Shayna had convinced him to call the meeting. After their walk in the garden, she had once again brought up the fact that his plan for the morrow was rather lacking in detail. Gale couldn't argue with that, and so they had decided to see to the plan instead of returning to their rooms for the night. Gale was pleased at the prospect of retiring with a firm plan of action rather than lying awake staring at the ceiling and trying to worry up some idea. Plus, the meeting gave him a reason to stay with Shayna a bit longer.

He'd been slightly embarrassed walking into the hall arm in arm with Shayna after having sent summons to his companions. However, no one looked as surprised at the sight of the new couple as he'd expected; there was even a knowing nod from Marris and a small smirk from Andern. Although Leopards didn't smile, Gale was sure Darkspot's eyes twinkled and he could have sworn he heard her soft, coughing laughter as he pulled out the chair for Shayna to sit at the head table. He mused to himself about whether everyone but him had been aware of the impending romance. Probably. But now, there were graver topics to discuss.

"Tell us, Brander," Gale said, turning his gaze to the red-haired soldier, "you've been able to watch the dragon and observe its habits for several months now. What can you tell us that will aid us tomorrow?"

Brander scratched his bearded chin. "I'm afraid there's not much I can say, sir. It came flyin' in from the east, some two an' a half months back now, an' it mainly stays off on Felimath, 'cept when it wants human flesh, I suppose. We don't see it aroun' Doorn as much as we used to at the beginnin' – I suppose it figured it'd gotten all the easy pickin's and knew we were all cooped up in here. After it ripped up all the houses an' burned what could be burned, it don't come here, 'cept every now an' then when it raids for people who've strayed outside the walls. An' it don't like fire, sir. Every time we've lit fires for any reason, it comes flyin' right over to investigate. I suppose the brute thinks it might be another dragon invadin' its territory."

"Hmm," Gale said, thinking over what Brander had said, "and have you been able to injure it in any way? Arrows? Spears? Fire?"

"Well, not very successfully, sir," Brander said, looking downcast, "but I suppose that's obvious. I had archers on the wall tops shootin' at it, an' the arrows were cuttin' through the membrane on its wings, but it didn't like that an' blasted half my men off the wall with one snort o' fire. The arrows don't harm the scales though, just bounce off, an' we've never got close enough to it to see if we might stick it with a spear or sword. I've heard the roofs o' their mouths are soft though, an' there's that moment before they breathe fire when they're just gapin' at you. Mind you though, I wouldn't want to be the one standin' there in that moment though. But I suppose Your Majesty knows more o' this business than I do. I've heard tales that this isn't your first dragon."

Gale opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it. He silently pondered this information, then slowly and deliberately began to talk.

"I had a look at Avra as we were sailing past, and I noticed it's more hilly and rocky than Felimath. The dragon's big – we'll be able to see it from a long way off, but if it won't be able to see us as well if there are dells and rocks for us to hide behind. Early tomorrow, I propose that a small band cross the channel to Avra. We'll have as many archers as we can at the back, concealed in a half-circle, ready to fire at a command. Marris, you will be in charge of lighting a fire in the middle of that half-circle, as soon as I'm in place. And me, I'll be further out in front of the archers, lying low in one of those dells. The fire should draw the dragon in, and the archers will confuse and anger it, but hopefully they'll be spread out enough that it won't know where to attack first. It'll land in front of half-circle, near to where I am. As it draws in its breath to breathe fire at the archers, who'll still be pelting it, I'll leap out to stab my spear through its mouth, and that should make an end of it." He stroked the hard wood of the spear shaft, imagining the scene in his mind's eye.

"It's a dangerous plan," Andern said quietly. "And you're trusting that the beast will react exactly how you expect."

Surprisingly, it was Darkspot who replied for Gale. "Any plan that we form will be dangerous, Captain. From what we know of this dragon, I think Gale has proposed a plan that will work. We knew what we were signing up for, and I know that I for one shall be there with Gale on the morrow."

"I agree," said Marris. "You can count on me, Your Majesty."

There were similar murmurs of agreement from the eleven members of Gale's guard, those that had not been killed or injured in the battle with the pirates, six of which were trained as archers primarily.

"I can provide you my best archers, too, sir," Brander said.

"Your Majesty," Andern said. "When I agreed to bring you to the Lone Islands, I made no promises about fighting dragons. To be truthful, I had no intention on going anywhere near the brute." The captain bowed his head. "But I must say that it would be my shame to allow my king to go while I huddled in some castle. I've lived in fear too many years, and I would be grateful of a place in your company. I cannot speak for any of my crew, but I will be at your side, Your Majesty."

Gale laid a hand on Andern's shoulder. "Your sword shall be most welcome."

"Gale?" Shayna touched his arm. "I have a bow, as well."

Gale turned to her, a little surprised. "You're not planning on coming too, are you?"

Shayna put her other hand on her hip and glared at him, and for a moment, despite the feminine dress, she looked just like the belligerent, pert woman he had first met on _Wavedancer_. "Of course, I'm coming. I can fight. I only just managed to knock it into your head that I'm fond of you, and I'm not going to lose you as soon as I gained you. I'll shoot that dragon right out of the sky if it so much as looks the wrong way at you."

Gale stared at her, went to say something and thought better of it, then leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "I suppose there's absolutely no good in me saying anything, is there?"

Shayna reached over and patted him on the cheek, a little mockingly. "There, you see, you _are_ learning, Gale."

Gale looked at her, trying to decide whether or not to feel insulted, but then he just gave her a lop-sided grin. "Well, we'll just have to see if you can teach that dragon as good a lesson tomorrow."

He rose from his seat. "Get a good night's sleep tonight, everyone. Tomorrow, we have a dragon to kill!"

~o~o~

The boat crunched gently onto the sandy beach of Avra, and Gale leapt nimbly out to help Andern tie the head rope. Behind them, the sun had just risen above the horizon, and light was spilling around the buildings of Narrowhaven across the channel. The castle was a black outline on the hilltop against the light.

Once the two boats were secured, the small company made their way into the central island. None of the three Lone Islands were particularly large, and from the first hilltop, Gale could see Avra in its entirety. It was perhaps two miles long, then there was the narrow channel, and beyond it, the blackened remains of Felimath. Shadows played around the valleys of the distant island, but he could see no signs of his foe.

"Spread out and find hiding places," he instructed the archers.

His own six men, along with five of Brander's men, crept out, spreading as they went until they formed a rough half-circle, the open end of which faced Felimath.

Shayna laid her hand on Gale's arm. Once again, she was clad in a simple brown tunic and leggings, but she had a sturdy bow in her hands and an arrow-filled quiver at her waist. "Stay safe, Gale."

He slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her close enough that he was able to give her a light kiss on the lips. "And you watch yourself. Give the dragon an extra shot from me."

She glided away, and he watched her until he saw her dip down behind a rocky outcrop far out on the left flank of the row of archers. He found himself murmuring for a blessing from Aslan for her.

Marris had taken charge of the second group of men, which consisted of the remainder of Gale's guards, Andern, and five more of Brander's soldiers. Each man carried a small bundle of straw, as well as a larger bundle of wood from the rubble of Narrowhaven. Marris efficiently set about organizing the building of the fire that would draw the dragon to them.

"Come, Gale, they know what they are doing, and it is your role that will require the perfect position," Darkspot said. "Do not worry about them. It is yourself that you need to worry about now. How is your side?"

Gale didn't bother glancing at his left side. "It'll be fine." He was dressed only in his light tunic and leggings. He'd considered wearing heavier armor, even a simple leather breastplate, but his job required speed more than protection. A breastplate would do him little good against slashing claws and fiery breath, but it would slow him down, and that was something he couldn't afford.

He starting walking with the Leopard loping at his side, glancing around for a proper hiding place, and in his peripheral marking where the half-circle of his archers ended on either side. He could feel the sun beating down on his nape now, but his skin felt cold and there was a damp chill of morning still clinging to the earth. And it was quiet, unnaturally quiet. His stomach twisted in unease.

He had gone some fifty feet out from where his men were building the fire, when he found what he wanted. The ground rose slightly into a shallow hill which turned into a plateau at the top. Just before the plateau however, there was a rocky knoll, just the right size for a man to crouch under easily, hidden from sight from one standing on top of the hill.

Ducking down underneath the rocks and amidst the bushy heather, he scrabbled about a bit, clearing away the gravel and grit that might clink or roll down the hill, giving away his presence. A few feet away, Darkspot crouched on the ground, her body pressed flat against the earth and concealed among the brown bushes and low scrub. Gale glanced around, getting a bearing of his surroundings. Behind him, the men had finished building the kindling for the fire, though they had not yet lit it, and all but Marris had hidden themselves in the surrounding undergrowth and dells. Marris himself stood by the firewood, ready to light it in a moment's notice.

Gale glanced to his left and his right. He could see the outcrop behind which Shayna was hidden, some thirty feet to his left, and the dell where the furthest of his archers was hidden roughly the same distance on his right. He looked at Darkspot, and her teeth flashed as she emitted a low growl. Gale raised his spear, and the light flickered off the metal tip.

Marris saw the signal. Gale saw him leaning over the wood, and then a tongue of flame appeared as the high commander struck flint with his knife. Expertly, he lit the straw, which immediately blazed up into an inferno. At the same time, Marris lifted a horn to his lips and called a clear, silver, Narnian blast of war which echoed out over the hills and water. Then he ran for cover.

For a few seconds, there was no sound but the wind in the heather and Gale's own heartbeat thudding in his ears. But then a distant bellow reached him and in a shockingly short amount of time, he heard a dull _thump, thump_ of giant wings pounding the air above him. He gripped his spear with both hands, his blood racing through his veins, and said one last prayer before all thoughts gave way to the adrenaline that was coursing through him.

The next roar was so close that Gale thought he was deafened by the ear-splitting sound that sent reverberations through the earth. He felt the earth tremble as the dragon landed on top of the plateau, and the rushing of its wings sounded like pouring water. He couldn't see the beast, but he could hear its angry breathing, the clicking of its talons on the stones, and the rustling of its scales over the heather.

A tail slammed down above the knoll, sending a shower of dust over Gale, and for one fearsome moment, he was afraid the dragon had sensed him, but then he heard it rear up and let loose another shattering roar. It had been challenged, and it knew it.

He did not see the signal that he knew Marris would give. But evidently, the archers had. The volley was not perfectly even, but within seconds of each other, twelve arrows flew up toward the plateau, besieging the dragon from three sides.

This time, there was pain in the dragon's bellow, and Gale knew that the arrows had pierced through the thin membrane that stretched across the beast's wings. The injuries wouldn't keep it from flying, but it would madden it. And Gale knew that a madden beast was less likely to make a calculating move. However, it would also make it unpredictable.

Another rain of arrows flew up toward the dragon. It gave a low hiss, then Gale heard it make a strange huffing sound. About two seconds later, a stream of flame shot past Gale's hiding down toward the fire burning in the middle of the open ground. Gale turned his face away from the searing heat, hoping that all his men had found safe hiding places.

The dragon fire vanished, but its tail smashed down on the hilltop again as it snarled. Gale knew it was getting frustrated, unable to see its foes. It was his time to make a move. He needed to be in position for the next time it made ready to breathe fire.

He began crawling, the spear held tightly in his left hand as he carefully eased himself away from the knoll. Nearby, Darkspot remained still, her eyes fixed on him, ready to aid him the moment he needed it. He lifted himself slightly from the ground and peeped over the knoll, and saw his foe perched on the plateau just as another volley of arrows pelted it. A few bounced off its scaly hide, but most of them pierced its wings, which already were filled with holes and a few arrows that had not gone all the way through. The dragon arched its head back, screeching, its nostrils flaring. Gale brought his spear up, waiting for the perfect moment.

Then everything went wrong.

A stray arrow that had come later than its companions struck the dragon in its left eye. A terrible howling roar burst from the dragon as it automatically spread its wings and leapt back, its tail thrashing madly. Gale had to slam himself back down onto his stomach to avoid the dangerous diamond-shaped tail tip as it rushed past overhead. The dragon leapt into the air, its wings catching an updraft. Gale felt the fierce wind of its wings as it flew past directly overhead, and then it soared up into the sky, hovering over the plateau. Its mouth opened and it bathed the ground around the fire, from where it detected the arrows coming. But it was too far away from Gale for him to even think of reaching it with his spear. It retreated then, flying back and landing on the next hilltop, where it twisted its head, trying to rub out the arrow with its claws. He could still see it well from his position, and a sudden thought struck him. The beast was half-blinded, in pain, and had retreated from their onslaught. Now was the perfect time to kill it. It would be a risk on his part, approaching the dragon over the open country, but it was too good a chance to let go. And, somewhere deep inside, he still wanted to be the dragon-slayer, the sole one who could claim to have brought down the monster in a show of great bravado.

He stood up.

"Gale, what are you doing?" Darkspot hissed. "It will come back soon enough."

"No," he answered, "it's now or never. It's distracted by its injury, and we don't know that it'll come back to the plateau. It may very well fly down to the fire, if it tries to land again at all. If it keeps flying above us, pinning us down with fire, there's only so long we'll last. I have to go now."

"No, Gale, wait!"

But Gale was not listening. He snatched up his spear and ran.

His heart pounded in his chest, his feet struck the earth in a strong rhythm, and his hair flew back from his face as he set his eyes on his goal. The dragon was still writhing, the arrow embedded in its eye, only twenty feet from him. He knew he was now beyond the reach of his archers. Marris, Andern, and all the others were too far away to come to his aid. It was just him, just him and the dragon.

His approach was neither subtle nor quiet. The dragon's head whipped around as his feet clattered on the stones, and its one wicked eye glared red at him. It was beyond mad. It was furious now and ready to avenge its eye. And it saw a lone human running toward it, bright metal in its hand, and in the dragon's mind, it attributed all its pain to this single man who had so boldly trespassed on its territory.

It momentarily forgot the pain in its wings and eye as it turned to face Gale, drawing in breath and producing the low, huffing sound as it prepared to breathe fire. Flames shot toward Gale, but he threw himself down behind a rock outcrop until the fire had died out.

The dragon leapt at him, but its missing eye caused it to misjudge the distance. It overleapt, landing on the other side of the outcrop. By then, Gale was on his feet again, and he dodged as swiping claws flew past over his head.

A whistling sound filled his ears, and without thinking, he threw himself sideways as the gigantic tail slammed down on the spot he had previously occupied. He covered his eyes briefly with his arm as a shower of dirt and small rocks flew up from the contact. He barely avoided the claws again as they struck out at him, and he heard the dragon taking in another deep breath to let it out again as a raging torrent of flame. He lashed out with his spear, dragging it across the creature's forepaw. It snagged on one of the rough scales, catching the soft flesh underneath, and as the dragon ripped its claw away, Gale's arms were yanked up and back. The wound on his side stretched then tore, causing pain to streak through his torso. Automatically, he let go of the spear and it flew over his head, landing in the earth five feet out of his reach. At the same moment, his back slammed painfully into the ground as the force of the dragon's reaction and his pain knocked him backwards.

Gale rolled over, his eyes watering with pain, to see the dragon rear over him, its teeth bared and its claws upraised to end his life. There was nothing he could do but wait for his death to descend. He stared back straight into the burning red eye of his enemy.

From out of nowhere, a yellow and black shape hurled itself at the dragon. It struck the dragon in its shoulder, burying its claws in the unprotected slits between the scales and holding on for all it was worth. The dragon screeched from the pain of this new attack and from anger at having its revenge foiled. This stinging gnat was a nuisance, another hurting pest in a day already filled with pain and annoyance. It raised its claw and struck the clinging beast, ripping the animal off its scales, and the force of its blow hurled the Leopard away and onto the ground before it turned its attention back to its original victim, breathing in deeply in preparation of burning the human off the face of the earth.

But Gale was not there.

Darkspot had distracted the dragon for mere seconds. But often in battle, a fraction of a second is all one receives. Gale did not waste it.

The moment the dragon's attention was turned from him, he rolled over, scrambling in the dirt, ignoring the lancing pain in his side. His hands closed around the firm wood of his spear shaft and he whirled around to face the dragon, just as it turned back, its mouth gaping as it made ready to breathe fire. He saw its eye flicker, searching the ground for him, but he had already lunged.

The spear flew through the air and buried itself inside the soft roof of the dragon's mouth.

This time, the scream that split the air was not anger, but sudden, dreadful fear. Its tail thrashing against the ground, spraying Gale with dirt, the monster rolled over, its wings flapping uselessly. One last spasm passed through the dragon, hurling it to the ground where it twitched feebly for a few seconds before it went still. Black blood gushed suddenly from its mouth, then its eye went black as well. Its wings collapsed with a crash.

Gale knelt in the dirt, gasping, his hand on his side, feeling the wet blood between his fingers, staring at the ruin of his enemy. The dragon was dead.

But he thought of the dragon, and his own pain and weariness, for only a split second. He recalled the yellow and black shape flying through the air to his rescue, and sudden terror clutched his heart. He staggered to his feet.

"Your Majesty!"

He ignored Marris's shout, still distant, as his commander reached the plateau and was able to see the battlefield, and he vaguely realized that barely five minutes had passed since he'd leapt up from the knoll and charged toward the dragon. Marris must have run after him just as soon as he'd seen Gale running after the dragon.

"Gale!" Shayna was with Marris, but even her shout was not enough to distract him. For he had found what he was looking for. A bundle of yellow fur, dotted with black spots, lay still on the earth where the dragon had flung it. Gale dropped down to his knees.

"No, oh Aslan, no."

He slipped his arms underneath the prone shape and lifted the Leopard tenderly, and only then did he see the horrific cuts that ran down her right flank and leg. He felt her warm blood on his hands, and as he lifted her, her head lolled back, the powerful jaws slack, the dark eyes closed. He pressed her gently against his chest, cradling her as one might an infant, and buried his face in her soft fur which his tears soon matted.

"Gale?"

Shayna and Marris stopped a few paces from him. He could hear their labored breathing after their long and frantic run, but he did not want to speak to them now. He wanted them to go away and leave him in the empty blanket of darkness that seemed to be pressed down on his senses and smother them. All he could feel was the terrible pain in his side and that still, still form in his arms.

"Gale…" This time he caught something different in the tone of Shayna's voice, fear perhaps or awe, he could not tell, and he didn't particularly care. He wished they would leave him alone. What did their companionship matter when he had lost his dearest friend? He thought of rising angrily, turning and yelling at them to go away, as if it were somehow their fault that Darkspot was lying unmoving in his arms. He was angry at the dragon, angry at them, but most of all he was angry at himself and his stupid, blasted pride. Why did they have to keep bothering him now of all times?

"Son of Adam, stand up."

The deep, stern voice cut across all his despairing thoughts. A chill ran down his spine as he got to his feet, Darkspot still clutched in his arms, and turned to meet the voice's owner, who he could not have disobeyed, even if he'd wanted to. He found himself looking into the deep, solemn eyes of the Lion.

He could not look away. As he stared into the Lion's face, all the memories of his pride and stubbornness – his rudeness to Starhorn, his rash decision to fight the pirates, his argument with Andern, his treatment of Shayna, and his last terrible mistake of a few minutes ago – flashed through his mind until his cheeks went red with shame. It felt as if a great weight were pressing down on his shoulders, and he wanted nothing more than to shrink back and hide his face, and his memories, from the True King of Narnia. But as he felt the warmth of the body pressed against his chest, a feeling stronger than his shame rose in his breast.

"Please," he whispered, "please, Aslan, she's hurt. Please don't let her die."

Aslan's eyes were grave, but there was a deep sadness in them, as well. "How did this happen, Son of Adam?" he said, his deep voice reverberating through Gale.

Gale's cheeks burned, but underneath his guilt, he felt a sense of calm, as if no matter what happened, he would be able to face it. "It was my fault, Aslan," he said evenly. "I wanted to kill the dragon by myself, and when it flew away, I saw a chance to go after it on my own. I ignored the warnings of my friends, and…and the dragon would have killed me if Darkspot hadn't distracted it."

"Why did you seek to kill the dragon on your own, despite the warnings of your friends, despite the fact that you knew it would only bring pain?"

This time, Gale had to struggle several seconds to keep his eyes from falling. "I…" he stammered, "I wanted to live up to the stories people tell about me. I thought I could do it."

He heard a surprised intake of breath from Marris, but he didn't look at his high commander. "Tell them the truth, Gale," Aslan commanded him.

Gale glanced at his companions now, half-wishing he could disappear into the ground. "I've never killed a dragon before, not even a wyvern. I got my scar on a hunting trip when my horse threw me and I hit my cheek on a tree branch. I'm not sure how the rumor started that I had got it killing a dragon – there was a time when a wyvern was seen in Ettenmoors and I went to investigate, but I never saw it – but I liked the story and I let people think it about me. But I always wanted it to be true."

He turned his gaze back to the Lion. "I'm sorry Aslan. I'm sorry for my pride and stupidity. But please, it's my fault my friend is hurt. I would take whatever punishment my deeds require, but she can't die, not for my mistake."

"Sometimes it is the way of the world that one must die for another's faults," Aslan said.

"But must it be so this time?" Gale asked desperately. "She's my friend."

He could not fully tell, but he thought he saw tears form deep in the Lion's dark eyes. "Gale, son of Gareth, King of Narnia," Aslan said, "what must be, must be."

Aslan turned, his golden mane swirling in the sea breeze, and his gaze fell on Shayna and Marris who had stood by silently the whole time, their heads bowed and looks of quiet reverence on their faces. The Lion stopped in front of Shayna, and she dropped to her knees, her head still bowed. "My King," she murmured.

Aslan leaned forward and touched her forehead with the tip of his rough tongue. "Greetings, Daughter of Eve. You have fought a hard battle, and your fight is not yet done. Look well into your duties and protect your king as you have done so far."

Shayna looked confused, but she nodded her head. "Yes, Aslan," she whispered.

When Aslan looked at Marris, the high commander dropped to his knee, but his face was shining as he gazed into the Lion's eyes. Aslan looked back, and his eyes glinted. But all he said was simply, "Son of Adam, well done," before he placed a Lion's kiss on Marris's forehead and then turned back to Gale, his eyes once again dark and sorrowful.

"You have been reckless and foolish many times," he said to Gale, "and you have been often blind. You have friends who hold you dearer than your heart can imagine. Your high commander carries a loyalty to you deeper than the sea, and he left behind everything to fight this battle with you, and yet you have never counted him as a friend, but rather as no more than another of your subjects to do your will. You have but begun to understand the esteem the woman has for you, and yet you have often treated her with a scorn undeserved. And there is no love deeper than that which allows one to give her life for a friend. You have looked down upon those who care for you, and you have ignored advice that came from wise hearts. You have allowed those close to you and those who trust you to believe in a lie. This you have done, Son of Adam. Do so no more."

As Aslan rebuked him, Gale did not allow his eyes to drop, but forced himself to look back into the Lion's gaze, for even though the rebukes hurt, at the same time, he felt determined to show Aslan that he would change his ways. As Aslan's last command hung in the air, Gale straightened his shoulders, feeling as if the weight had been lifted from them. "Yes, Aslan," he replied firmly.

Aslan stepped toward him and opened his mouth. Gale flinched slightly at the sight of the sharp, gleaming teeth, but the Lion simply breathed upon him and Darkspot, and his hot breath felt like a tongue of flame on Gale's brow.

Then the Lion turned, his mane gleaming like liquid gold in the rising sunlight, and the light wrapped about him until for a moment he seemed clothed in it, and Gale was forced to look away from the brightness. But then, Gale looked again and saw that the King of Narnia, the Lion, was gone.


	16. One Year Later

Chapter 15: One Year Later

Gale lay on his back in the grass, his bare head propped up by his rolled-up cloak, a book held up in front of his face, the paper blocking the intense sunlight of midday from glaring in his eyes. The breeze that came in from the sea ruffled his hair playfully, and he reached up with his free hand to brush the yellow strands out his eyes as the wind blew his locks across his face. After taking in a deep breath of the fresh, wholesome Narnian air, he let it out again in a contented yawn.

"Tired, Gale?"

He glanced sideways to where Shayna was laying in the grass beside him, observing him with a fond, amused look. He drew his hand thoughtfully through the dark hair that was pooled about her face in the grass. "Hmm, what? No, although I shouldn't have stayed so long at Marris's, especially when I knew I needed to go to that council meeting this morning."

"But who could blame you?" Shayna replied with an airy smile. "Serena was adorable, and I know Marris and Marina appreciated it. You are her honorary uncle, after all."

Gale grinned, remembering the sky blue eyes and golden hair of the baby girl who had been born to his high commander and his wife five months ago. Her tiny hands had been overly eager to pull at his own hair however, but when Marris had tried to rescue his king from the infant's playful tugging, little Serena had objected so loudly that in the end Marris had given her back to Gale.

"I think she likes you, Your Majesty," Marris had said, rather unnecessarily, but with a broad grin on his usually stern face.

"Well," Gale had answered, "I certainly need to get used to this sort of thing."

In response to that thought, he slipped his hand out of Shayna's hair and laid it on her stomach, which was already distinctively swollen. Sometimes he felt a stirring within when he did so, but today there was no movement that indicated the small life that rested inside Shayna.

"And what about you, my dear?" he asked. "Should you be getting some rest?"

The queen of Narnia rested her hand over his on her stomach. "You fuss over me too much, Gale, do you know? I'm quite fine."

Gale gave her a mock exasperated look. "Well, excuse me for asking! There was a time when I was scolded for not paying you enough attention, and now I'm to be scolded for giving you too much. Where is the happy middle?"

Shayna flashed him her mischievous smile, letting him know that she had merely been playing with him. "Between the two of us, if I have to choose one, I greatly prefer too much attention over what you gave me when we first met."

Gale let a lop-sided grin cross his face. "But I was a complete idiot back then. I don't think it was a secret to anyone but me."

"Back then?" Shayna raised an eyebrow. "It was only a year ago. And yes, you were rather. At least sometimes."

"No danger of that now." He grimaced. "You've seen to that."

"And not a minute too soon," she replied smugly.

They laughed then, and he rolled over to give her a kiss. He had only just lowered his lips to hers however, when a low, quiet voice, soft with laughter, reached him.

"I'm very sorry to interrupt, Your Majesties, but Starhorn wants to see you in the council room as soon as possible. The new charters have been drawn up, and he says you need to oversee the meeting with the representatives of the Lone Islands."

Gale sat up and looked at the Leopard crouched in the grass several paces away, her long tail bending the grass as it slowly brushed back and forth. "They're done already? I didn't expect it to be done before noon."

Darkspot's teeth showed in a cat's smile. "It is noon, Gale. But I suppose you've been preoccupied…" she ended, exchanging a look with Shayna.

Gale got to his feet and helped Shayna up graciously, even though she wasn't quite to the point where such actions became difficult. "Well, we'd best get back to Cair Paravel before Starhorn feels the need to lecture me about my kingly duties again."

Shayna rolled her eyes. "Gale, in some aspects, I don't think you would change even if your life depended on it."

The three of them started walking back toward the castle, which stood half a mile from the grassy meadow where Gale and Shayna often spent time relaxing. Darkspot walked slightly ahead of them, and as Gale watched her, he felt the deep pang of regret that he always felt every time he saw her now. A long, white scar ran down her flank and right leg, marring the smooth yellow and black coat, and she walked with a pronounced limp from the wound that had once severed some muscle in her back leg. She had barely survived her injury, having been brought back to the Lone Island healers as one dead, but whether by a miracle or by the healers' skills she had recovered. However, since that day, she had never been able to walk properly again, and she no longer ran and hunted in the Narnian woods and hills.

There had been great rejoicing in the Lone Islands when they returned. From the castle at Narrowhaven, the people had seen the dragon flying down to the attack, and they had heard its last roar of death. When the dragon-slayers had crossed the channel once again, they were met by all the islanders who crowded around them, cheering and praising the Narnian heroes.

It was over a week before they returned to _Wavedancer_. Not only had there been Darkspot, who was not well enough to be safely moved for several days, but there was also the matter of the reward that the governor had promised Gale. As soon as the dragon was dead, the three islands had unofficially become part of the Narnian lands, and the islanders were delighted to consider themselves part of the country that had sent their saviors. However, there was endless paperwork and official business that needed to be done to complete the transaction. Gale spent most of that week cooped up in the governor's meeting room, going over details and making arrangements for Lone Island ambassadors to come to Cair Paravel as soon as possible to finish the necessary business that would officially make the Lone Islands part of the royal lands of Narnia. As Gale sat hunched over piles of dusty papers, he once again remembered the parts of being a king that were less than enchanting, but he didn't complain. His heart was heavy, and his hand often strayed to the scar on his cheek, as if it were a badge of shame that he was forcing himself to recall.

Meanwhile, Marris, Shayna, Andern, and the rest helped to reestablish normality. There were tents and living quarters to clear out of the Narrowhaven castle, houses to rebuild, crops to salvage and replant, and a good deal that needed to be cleaned up. But everyone went about the drudgery with uplifted hearts. The dragon was dead, and life was returning to normal.

Finally, the sails of _Wavedancer_ once again billowed against the hard blue sky, and the prow turned to face west, toward home. Gale stood at the stern, for a while watching the three islands recede into the distance, but then he turned his back to them and gazed forward. He was tired, unimaginably tired, but a weight seemed to lift off his heart as he stared west, knowing that in a few weeks' time, he would be looking upon his homeland once again. It seemed so long ago that he had left the Cair Paravel harbor, as if it was from another life, but upon reflection, he considered that he had been a different man then. So much had happened and so much had changed since that fateful day when Reyin had come through the doors of Cair Paravel with his message. Gale looked at the sky; he couldn't see the stars, but he knew they were watching all the same. His meeting with Shayna had not been the only doom this journey had brought into his life.

Weeks passed without incident, and at Shayna's request, they made the small detour to stop at Galma. At this point, Shayna and Gale's future together was obvious to everyone, even though he had yet to formally propose to her. No one could blame her for wanted to stop to say good-bye, perhaps for the last time, to her countrymen and women.

The governor of Galma once again welcomed them and took them down to Shayna's village where he proudly showed them the fort that was being raised there. Gale instantly recognized the men dragging the stones up to the structure and laying the mortar; the former pirates looked sullen and much less fearsome, but were making no complaints as they went about their forced labor.

"We haven't had a problem with a single one of them," the governor said happily. "Wretched lot. I think they're all aware of the great mercy Your Majesty showed them in allowing them to live."

Afterwards, they went down to Shayna's house where her tutoress still lived. The woman was overjoyed to see Shayna, and the two embraced as Shayna babbled about everything that had happened since she'd left. When Shayna spoke of her future, the woman turned to Gale, a smile creasing her face.

"Your Majesty, I am glad to hear this news. I have loved her as my daughter, and I can think of no better fate that I should have wished for her than for her to sit at Cair Paravel beside my king."

"And I can think of no better fate for myself than to have her there," Gale replied with a smile.

The woman smiled back at him, but the expression abruptly faltered. For a moment, Gale could not explain her fallen countenance, until he realized that she was no longer looking at him, but was gazing past him. He turned.

Andern had walked up beside him but had stopped as one frozen. The two of them were staring at one another, struck dumb for the moment. But then Shayna's tutoress took a hesitant step forward. "Andern?" she asked, her voice seeming about to break.

He reached out and clasped her hands, which were trembling, still gazing into her eyes. When he spoke, it was in a soft, doubtful voice that Gale had never heard the tough sailor use before. "Marsa, is that you?"

She nodded violently, then flung herself into her older brother's arms with a sob. Andern buried his face in her hair, holding her protectively in his arms, and when Gale saw his face again, it was streaked with tears. "I lost you," he kept saying brokenly. "How did you escape?"

Marsa held on to his arms as if she would fall if he didn't support her. "I was set free," she replied. "It's a long story. I came home, but there was nothing left. I thought that you were dead. All this time, you were dead."

Then she was sobbing again, and Andern held her with a tenderness that he had not shown previously. "It's all right," he said soothingly. "I'm here, little sister." Then he reached into his shirt and pulled out the pendant that hung about his neck. He slipped it over her head, and she looked at it and then at him with a joy that belonged in the eyes of a little girl. And Andern was smiling too through the mist that still clouded his eyes.

"Come back to Narnia with me," he said. "You can live near the harbor, near to Cair Paravel, and you can visit Shayna whenever you like, and I'll be back when I don't have cargo."

And so it was that _Wavedancer_ gained an extra passenger on the voyage home.

A storm caught them one afternoon and forced them slightly off their course, but other than that, there were no serious setbacks or occurrences the rest of the journey to Cair Paravel.

Then, almost two months after he had left, Gale woke one morning to the lookout's call of "Land ho!" Immediately, he rushed to the upper deck, still in his bedclothes, and saw the strip of land on the horizon and the lone, glimmering shape of Cair Paravel rising from it. Never had he thought he'd be so happy to look upon that shore and that building. Home. Home at last.

"Has your desire for adventure been sated now, my friend?" Darkspot asked from beside him. She had not spent much time on her feet during the journey, and the wound on her side was still red, but during the past few days she had been up and about more than previously. He was concerned by the painful limp in her back leg, but the Leopard bore it without complaint. Only once had Gale tried to speak to her about what had happened with the dragon, but after he had thanked her for saving his life and apologized, she had looked him in the eyes with a thoughtful, sad expression, as if she could read some of the distress in his heart on his face.

"Do not agonize over what is past, Gale," she told him. "I forgive you." There had been something in her voice and expression which told him that there was no need for them to speak further about the matter.

Gale continued to gaze at the distant spire of Cair Paravel, but he automatically reached down to scratch between Darkspot's ears. "I think it has," he replied in answer to her question, and then a smile crossed his face, "at least for now."

Darkspot shook her head. "We shall see. I may have to have a conversation with Shayna about the topic."

Gale gave her a crest-fallen look. "Somehow, I don't think that bodes well. It seems that every time you have one of your chats with Shayna, it preludes something unpleasant for me."

Darkspot twitched her tail and purred. "But you do know that it's all for your own good, don't you, Gale?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

Marris joined them a few minutes later, coming to stand on the other side of Gale. His gaze also was fixed on the distant coastline, and he was smiling broadly. "Home at last," he said.

Gale put a hand on his high commander's shoulder. "Home indeed."

_Wavedancer_ had been sighted some time ago, so when they sailed into the harbor, there was a whole contingent of Narnians waiting for them and cheering so loudly that Gale could hear them even before he could make out the individual shapes in the dark mass of people crowding the shore. Starhorn was there, his arms folded, but a smile on his face, all his councilors, including Selric, had emerged from their dusty studies to welcome their king home, and even Stonebluff the Giant's huge frame loomed over the assembly. Gale stepped off the ship and was immediately bombarded with shouts, questions, and general chaos.

"Welcome home, Your Majesty!"

"Did you slay the dragon, Your Majesty?"

"Can I get you anything, Your Majesty?"

Gale waved away the clamor with an upraised hand. "My friends, the tale shall be told in due time. I thank you for this enthusiastic reception, but at the moment, there are more important things to see to than answering questions. Please, your aid would be much appreciated with helping us unload the ship as a start."

Walking back into Cair Paravel and flopping across his bed seemed infinitely strange to Gale. It seemed impossible that everything could be so the same, so ordinary, after his adventures. It was as if none of it had happened. But everything wasn't quite the same…

"So this is Cair Paravel," Shayna said, gazing around his room with a look of awe. She had followed him up from the harbor, insisting on helping him carry some of his baggage. He couldn't help but feel pleased at the look of wonder on her face as she beheld the greatest of all Narnian castles. "You truly have a beautiful home, Gale."

He rose from the bed and took her hands, pressing them together between his own. "_We_ have a beautiful home, don't you mean, Shayna?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

The smile that flashed across her face was mostly in her eyes, which seemed to shine at him. "Yes, we do," she answered.

Gale was jolted from his reverie by Shayna laying her head on his shoulder as they walked. He slipped his arm around her waist, smiling to himself, and watching Darkspot's odd lope slightly in front and to the right of him. A sense of great calm spread through him as he walked between his dearest friend and his wife, their silent company filling him with a inexpressible joy. Even the prospect of going over the new charters detailing the official contract between Narnia and the Lone Islands with the island ambassadors that had been in Cair Paravel a month now didn't sound too daunting. He smiled, enjoying this feeling of profound calmness, until he realized what it was, and his realization made him laugh quietly to himself.

At last, he was content.


	17. Epilogue

**I would like to say a huge thank you to all of you for all the story alerts and favorites, the community adds, and of course, the wonderful reviews. Thanks for sticking with me and reading my story. I appreciate your support, and I hope you find the ending satisfactory. The idea for this final chapter was suggested to me by Starbrow. Thank you, and enjoy! – Sauron Gorthaur**

* * *

Epilogue

A deep silence followed the end of the story. After the continuous music of the Unicorn's noble voice, the hush that replaced it seemed odd and lonesome to the children. Above them, pieces of dark blue evening sky showed between the leaves, and the children found themselves thinking once again about the Stable and the doom that they would be facing that night, thoughts that Jewel's story had for a time banished. Jill reached out and stroked the white coat beside her, and the silken touch chased away the black thoughts in her mind.

"What a lovely story," she said, "and it turned out happily for all of them after all."

"So that's how the Lone Islands became Narnian," Eustace said thoughtfully. "I had always wondered that. I remember Lucy and Ed didn't know when we were there on the _Dawn Treader_." He shook his head. "I wish I'd known the story when I was there. But wouldn't it be jolly if I could tell it to them when we get back to England?"

"If we get back," Jill said sadly.

Jewel looked at them, his eyes grave. "My heart tells me that indeed we will all once again see old friends, perhaps soon for some and perhaps later. But Aslan's Country shall not fade nor diminish in the brief time we have to walk upon the earth. Trust in the Lion, and do not give up your hope."

Jill's hand tightened around the shining strands of Jewel's mane, and on his other side, Eustace laid his hand on the Unicorn's shoulder. "You are ever so wise, Jewel," Jill said. "Of course, we won't give up. That awful Shift and the Calormene Tarkaan will have more than they reckoned on when we get to the Stable with Puzzle!"

"I'll say they will!" Eustace interjected fiercely from the other side. "If King Gale could beat one old dragon, surely we can beat a stuck-up ape and a band of Calormenes."

"We'll do it together," Jill said, just as fervently, "like Gale, Darkspot, Shayna, and the rest. We've got what our enemies will never have: friends! Isn't that right, Your Majesty?"

Tirian smiled, fingering the hilt of his sword. "For Narnia!" he said.

"And for Aslan!" the others cheered back.

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_And so it came to pass, as has been told elsewhere, that the old Narnia and the old England passed away, and in that time beyond time when all was everlasting day in that Great Story, it happened that Jill and Eustace walked in the Garden on the top of the hill and looked down and saw all of the new Narnia and the new England spread out beneath them. They did not speak, for words were not as necessary there as they once had been, but both found themselves thinking back to that last night in the Shadow-lands and of the Battle of the Stable._

_And as they stood there, thinking back, they saw three figures making their way leisurely across the Garden toward them. As they came closer, Jill saw that two were human, a man casually dressed with a bare head of golden hair and a beautiful, dark-haired woman, and beside them a Leopard gracefully loped._

_"Eustace," Jill murmured, "do you think…?" But then the newcomers looked up and saw the two children standing nearby._

_The man paused, then smiled, and made a polite bow in their direction, while the woman inclined her head. Rather less gracefully, Jill and Eustace returned the gestures._

_"Well met," the man said. "You are some of the children, aren't you, the Friends of Narnia? I've been wanting to meet you for a while now, but this is such a big world."_

_"I'm Jill, Jill Pole, and this is Eustace Scrubb," Jill answered, since on such occasions, Eustace was less likely to remember formalities._

_The woman stretched out her hand to Jill in a friendly manner, and when she smiled, there was a slightly mischievous light in her eyes. "Well met indeed, Jill and Eustace. You were there at the last battle and fought for all Narnia, didn't you?"_

_"I don't know if you've heard of us," the man said, "it's been a long time…"_

_But Eustace grinned. "Yes, I believe we actually do know you, Your Majesties, and it's a pleasure to meet you, and you too, Darkspot," he ended, nodding to the Leopard._

_Darkspot purred. "Where are your manners, Gale? Are you going to invite them to join us or not? I know that I for one would like to hear the stories they have to tell."_

_King Gale scratched between Darkspot's ears, then looked up at the children. "We were all going to go for a run, back down to Narnia and the sea. I miss feeling the sea breeze in my hair if I'm up here too long. Perhaps you both would like to join us?"_

_"We'd love to," Jill answered for both of them._

_The Light that shone over all the land beamed across them, as the two Friends of Narnia joined Gale, Shayna, and Darkspot, running easily across the green landscape toward the distant sea that lapped forever beneath the shining spire of Cair Paravel on the eastern shore of Narnia._

The End


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